Month: September 2018

I think it’s important to pause time a little to appreciate everything the Supreme Court as an institution has decided to write down a few days ago.

I’ve been holding off on typing out a blogpost which summarized all of my thoughts and feelings – outside of legalese, until I read the judgement – because I felt it would be unfair for me to do so. Don’t ask me why, my brain is a little weird and elects to do things like this. Multiple naps later, I have accomplished my objective and hence can be objective (hey? but also not really.) about everything that’s happened.

Here is some context. In India, there was a Law – that is Section 377 of the Indian Penal Code. The Law criminalized “carnal intercourse against the order of nature”. This was enforced against individuals who are not heterosexuals – thereby criminalizing all homosexual activity in India (at minimum). The (at minimum) is important to understand because there was little to no clarity about what was meant by the “order of nature” – and there are multiple questions about whether the Court, or the State gets to decide what the “order of nature” is, by means of Law.

Anyway. The other important thing to understand about India is that our social fabric is complicated, to say the least. I wouldn’t want to generalize and call it regressive, but there are enough and more people within Indian society who are far too nosy, do not understand the concept of personal autonomy and choice, and generally make it difficult to find “identity”.

There have been attempts to get this Section struck down in the past. The Indian legal system assesses all Laws according to the Constitution – which establishes basic norms for Laws to follow and says things like “Laws should not violate fundamental rights”. The act of “striking down” by the Court is effectively a ruling that says that a particular Law is contrary to the principles within the Constitution. This is the simplest way of explaining things.

Only one attempt was successful. And the joy of that attempt was far too short-lived. The Indian Court system works on a system of appeals and a Court hierarchy. The High Court said S. 377 was unconstitutional, but the Supreme Court said it was fine. And so the legislation continued.

That was until a few days ago.

What took place a few days ago was the culmination of the efforts of far too many people, and the correction of a social injustice that has been taking place for far too long. If you want to assess the impact a Court decision can make to an individual’s life – without it being something tangible, like the value of inheritance, or the conferring of a property right, you should assess the impact this case will have on an entire generation of people.

My roommate asked me how long I thought this decision would take to actually come into effect. And I couldn’t give him an answer. Because while it’s an excellent step – it’s merely the beginning of a lot of change yet to come.

Our world is heteronormative. We’ve normalized heterosexuality, nay, glorified it, to the extent that people have been shocked by preferences that are different. This behaviour of ours, while unhealthy, has led to a situation where people are uncomfortable with a public acceptance of who they are – and this concept applies to things  beyond sexuality as well.

But for the confines of this post, if we were to restrict ourselves to a discussion on sexuality.

It’s so strange to think that two people who love each other deeply could never publicly display their affection with the same comfort that two others do – especially if they want to.

It’s odd, for me, to think that people have to hide what they’ve known about themselves – and face severe bullying for revealing to people who they really are.

It’s surprising that the Law played complicit to this. And it’s terrible that this is a remnant of our colonial past.

For everything we’ve done as a free country, you can think of this case as another positive step toward freedom – one of prejudices. I believe one of the judges have stated that we owe the LGBTQIA community (and you can add letters to that abbreviation), because of the prejudice they have faced. I think that we owe them an apology, but also more than an apology, a lot of corrective behaviour.

I’m not entirely sure how that’s going to play out.

I need to explain. I’m socially privileged because I’m a boy who is heterosexual. By socially privileged, I mean that the level of discrimination and generally “icky” social things I have to combat on a daily basis are far lower than different groups of individuals. That “privilege” needs to go. I shouldn’t be in a position where I’m treated in a superior manner to another person because of my “identity”.

That’s just odd.

And I’m happy the Court said 493 pages of things that are in places far too verbose, but for the large part, ought to be said.

School is a weird place. We crack “gay” jokes very often, I think. And label things like shirts as being “gay”, or people are being “gay” because they act a certain way. I think stereotyping is generally an art that little kids are masters of, and a terribly politically incorrect art that has somehow descended into humour on the playground, or worse, in the locker room. We’ve all been complicit in this at some point or another. That’s one of those things that might change with generations to come. And I’m hopeful that it does. I’m also sorry I played a part in attaching a negative connotation to the phrase “gay” – because it doesn’t have a negative connotation at all.

Today’s an excellent day to watch Nanette, by Hannah Gadsby.

It’s  also an excellent day to think about how screwed up the first 20 years of your existence have been if your own country arbitrarily and artificially created 2 classes of people within the same species.

And be reminded by Twitter that we still have caste as a problem.

 

I think days which are extremely routine are starting to become some of the most enjoyable.

Last evening I played Basketball – my annual appearance on the Basketball Court during inter-batch tournaments/intra-murals, if you will. I’ve not played basketball properly since I left home – and I think it’s largely because I’ve not found the time to go play with people. It’s terrible.

I’ve never been an ardent basketball fan – although I really enjoy watching highlight reels. I don’t feel like my love for the game has diminished over my time at University, and that’s largely thanks to my batchmates who text & ask me to play these intramurals. I’d be far too lazy to commit to them otherwise.

This is one of those things I love about where I study. Matches start late in the evening and go on till early morning – and there’s this buzz around all the game venues – all Courts and the field are packed with people cheering on their friends or playing themselves. There’s very little care for sleep cycles or social groups. People begin supporting their batch more than anything else – and start supporting people they see playing well & having fun. There’s  a ton of sledging, but I think that adds to all the excitement.

But that’s never something I’ve understood.

I think our school took basketball as a very chill sport. Therefore even though we loved and we were passionate about it and all, we never really “trained” or “practiced”, nor did we get aggressive in school about the match. None of us who played exclusively at school had that mentality.

Here, I’m unable to understand how people put their aggressiveness on the Court aside when they chill off the Court.

It’s pretty amazing.

The joy of discovering new music from old artists is incomparable. When I first discovered Labrinth, I found Earthquake, and then slowly discovered his story – how he signed on to Syco. I remember the first thing that struck me about him was that his appearance reminded me of Stromae, and I’m not entirely sure why. Song-wise, Earthquake was ground-breaking because it had vocals and electronic music by the same person.

But I don’t think I recognized the power of Labrinth’s vocals. I didn’t understand that till I joined University and was shown the song “Jealous” by a senior of mine. His vocal range amazed me earlier, and it still does. I had been caught up listening to relatively less “vocal” songs of his, things like Xpress Yourself, which reminded me of this old Red Nokia one of our friends owned.

I discovered Sia, as did the rest of the world, when David Guetta decided to make her the star of his music, and used her repeatedly for chart-topping singles. Ultimately I saw her breakout to fame with Chandelier, a song I felt described all my emotions – because I legitimately think of doing crazy things like that from time to time. But also, because teenagers think they can relate to every emotion from every song.

Diplo is someone’s who I’ve understood is like Pharrell. He’s well-known for some pieces of music, but it’s pretty certain that you’ll find him on the credits of tracks you like. He’s also extremely diverse – in terms of the projects he undertakes and the creative liberties he has with those projects. Take Jack U for example. The first time I heard “Where R U Now”, was on my way to Pondicherry with some of my best friends, and it was so off, to hear Justin Bieber on an electronic record. But my ears felt fuzzy and warm after listening to the song so, so often – it basically spent 6 days on loop.

Everyone was shook.

Seeing the new LSD alias they’ve assumed amuses and excites me. Audio, Genius, and Thunderclouds have all been really, really groovy records. And I cannot wait to see what they come up with next.

Over the course of three years, I’ve seen my sleep cycle get blown to tatters because I take on more work that I can accomplish in maybe, 8 hours that I can stay awake for after the class day is over. This year’s been a constant attempt to change that – with me even sleeping 8 hours in my own bed, and sometimes taking mid-day naps – things I didn’t normally do, in a bid to reclaim my sleep.

I feel like a lot of these conscious changes have started coming because I realize I’m going to leave University in within 1.5 years, and if I don’t change a lot of lifestyle habits I’ve gotten into since I’ve come here.

I’ve been super unsuccessful on several days, but that’s taught me a lot about the power of habit. It takes much longer to create one than it does to destroy one. It took less than 3 months for my sleep cycle to be utterly screwed, but three years later, I’m still having trouble figuring out how to sleep properly.

My Chair has broken.

I am saddened.

A person’s relationship with his Chair or his place of seating is perhaps the most important relationship apart from a person’s relationship with his place of sleeping. For some, the two overlap. For me, they’re very distinct. Unless I fall asleep on my chair (this happens often), or sit on my bed (which is not as often as I would like), these two pieces of furniture will only interact where I wish to stretch my legs out and work.

Eliminating my Chair from the equation leaves my room with 3 pieces of furniture that belong to me. I am a proper Hostel student.

My chair has always been something I hold very dear to me. My room still contains the first chair I’ve ever owned, and over the years, my posture and back health has been defined by how much time I spend at my desk – considering I’m on my laptop/studying/reading for atleast 8 hours in a day.

When I was around 8, we purchased a really nice blue chair for my room – a chair that was with me till I left Dubai. I don’t really have any memories of it, particularly, but it served me consistently. Never did it let me down.

When we first moved to India, my parents and I searched and found the most incredible Blue Featherlite chair. It was an Office chair – one of those fancy “ergonomically” designed ones. All I know is that it had wheels, and therefore I could roll around my room. And it had a height adjustment feature. I was in love.

6 months in, my grandmother (of all people), broke that Chair. None of us really know the sequence of events that took place – because she was changing in my room at the time, but we entered to find her on the floor, in pain, and my chair, in pieces.

I was part shocked, part confused, and get this: I laughed.

I understand that that makes me a horrible human being. But my grandmother laughed at me when I fell over when I was 5 years old. Because I backtracked and went to sit where I thought the chair was (without actually feeling for the chair), and promptly fell on my ass. She found it hilarious.

I considered this payback. Of course I was a petty 6th Grader at the time, but the chair I had longed for had been broken, so you really can’t blame me.

We purchased a new chair. Which I’ve come to like, but I can never love as much as the Blue Featherlite.

When college rolled around (see what I did there), I wanted the full Hostel experience, so I didn’t invest in a chair.

My back decided to rebel against me. I developed a pilonidal sinus (which is legitimately the worst thing I have heard of), and develops as a result of too much friction near your butt and too much sitting. It was hilarious (but very painful).

And thus, I went and purchased a chair from Infocity. I was cheap about it and bargained, and did the usual things. But having it in my room made me so happy. It had wheels, it didn’t hurt my back, I could rock back & forth on it, and it was supremely comfortable.

Around 4 months in, I accidentally put too much weight on one of the arms of the chair & it collapsed promptly, but I loved the chair nonetheless.

2 years later, the chair has disintegrated fully. A true tragedy.

I am sad, and now in search of a Chair to fulfill the empty space this is left in my heart (and in my room). My butt longs for a place to rest and to leave an impression – perhaps one of the only impressions I will leave upon college (this is a joke, I am very committed to doing things for college).

Please tell if you have extra ones in your room. Thanks in advance.

This post is going to encapsulate why I love the Debating Society and being a part of the GNLU Debate year after year.

The DebSoc is underappreciated and underrated within our Community. I think this is true for most Law schools which are newer because several activities are rated above activities that are not as lucrative on an individual’s Curriculum Vitae, or which do not directly show correlation to employability and/or admission into Masters courses. So the DebSoc is very tightly knit together, and everyone, including members who aren’t continuously active are very quick to appreciate things that are done well.

It’s also a community that has become, in some sense “exclusive”. As a result of several factors, including the way social circles develop within college – the debating community becomes a set of far too few people than it initially starts off with.

The GNLU Debate is an opportunity for everyone to be a part of debating culture. And that’s probably what I love the most.

This year’s tournament was the largest one we have had, with over 170 participants. As a member from the senior-half of Law school, I think a huge responsibility we had as seniors this year was to show the first years how fun the debate weekend can get. Objectively, I think we did a good job.

More importantly though, I think we showed people what being a part of GNLU was about. A strong sense of community. And that makes me very happy.

This hasn’t turned out as sentimental as I wanted it to be – but that’s possibly exactly what the DebSoc is. No frills, no nonsense. To the point, and matter-of-fact.

It is September!

Hark, for we now have only 4 months left in the year. Also, this post marks 1/3rd of the writing journey I am attempting to go on. Which I think is quite the milestone. I’m not sure what your feelings are about this. Let me know (if you have feelings at all).

Things I’m looking forward to this month:

1. The GNLU Debate 2018
2. The GNLU Moot on Securities & Investment Law 2018
3. Sleep
4. Reading Books
5. Watching Cartoons
6. Playing the Piano
7. Getting back to the gym
8. Actually publishing some research.

Let’s see how far along I get with these goals.

You know what the greatest feeling in the world is?

Receiving an unexpected parcel at University.

This could have been a tweet. Instead, it is a blogpost.

I think being away from home, gifts and surprises start actually surprising you a lot more than people can anticipate. Our University has a mailing thread that tells us when parcels have arrived for us – so we can go and collect them. Seeing my name on that makes me incredibly excited. For no reason whatsoever.

Actually there is reason.

You see, I really like food. And gifts. So every time I get a parcel, I imagine somebody has responded to a tweet where I request for (a) Cup Noodles, (b) Biscuits, or (c) Books. I make the walk to the warden’s office anticipating one of these three things.

Except I am met with an internship certificate.

 

Laundry is getting increasingly difficult to do.

Personally, I maintain two bags of laundry. One, where I store laundry for the room – stuff that needs low maintenance that I need to think about a lot less. Two, where I store high maintenance laundry – those clothes that are so comfortable and nice that they demand you to wear them to class every morning when you see them in your cupboard. The clothes expect to be ironed and washed with fabric softener. And to be honest, they’re very comfortable so I’d do anything to extend the shelf-life.

I’m speaking from a position of privilege, and I’d like you to filter for that when I complain about things like having to do laundry on this blog.

Anyway, so laundry is becoming difficult to do because I’ve decided I have enough undergarments to last me two weeks (I understand this is tmi), and therefore I should put laundry cycles only once in 14 days.

Except, the irregularity of a 14 day cycle (in that you don’t really think about it until it rolls around), is that you end up without “nice” clothes at some point and end up going to class in a teeshirt that was given to you in Grade 9 where you were tiny (in comparison to now) and a pair of jeans.

Also, a vaster problem is that the bags begin to pile up.

Which takes up space in my room.

 

 

I’ve learnt that being organized is a skill that is either highly underrated, or overvalued based on whom you interact with. And eventually, that it’s time to understand that every person works differently.

Now, granted, working in a team with people who work differently is difficult. That’s the point at which you need to come up with a middle-ground and a set of principles you can agree to work with. Communication with respect to what works for people can often make the experience easier.

But it’s a lot more hurtful to chide someone who works differently and has a different attitude to their work than you do.

It’s useful in a way, because you can figure out what kind of people you’ll never be able to work with ever again. But not in any other manner.

Basically:
Let people live their lives if they’re not harming you with their work ethic. If they are, try to figure out middle-grounds.

 

I think Law school/Residential campuses have a phenomenal way of putting you in your place. And more often than not they do that by informing you, subtly, through societal interactions that there’s far more for you to learn than the information you are already aware of. Other times it’s by showing you that there’s a lot more to life than the view you possess – there are perspectives for you to consider, and alternate ways of spending your time, several different things to enjoy.

Now that I reconsider that terribly abstract statement I have written, it’s pretty fair to say that it’s applicable for every place in the world. Just, your general existence – at some point if you’re open-minded and curious, you’ll figure out that the world is just full of stuff waiting to be learnt.

On this premise, I think we often forget, with how busy our lives are, what the value of reading actually is. And it’s difficult – but there’s so much out there to read and re-read and learn from.

It’s fantastic.

Here’s a post I wrote for Jury’s Out, the GNLU Magazine, called Night Mess Nostalgia:

Everyone associates phrases with things – “sadness and rage” with exam season, “happiness” with an e-mail that postpones exams owing to a National holiday in light of mourning. The phrase I best associate with the night mess is a sharp yell which, if listened to carefully, is “ANDA RAICE TEJAAAAS”, but from afar, is an obfuscation in a cacophony of sound.

I first visited the Holy Grail on my first day at University. A senior politely inquired for me, asked me if I had any tests, and when I responded in the negative, sent me on my way with Rs. 150 in my pocket to collect a very specific order:

“4 Cheese Paranthas in 2 plates, one plate with the red sauce and curd, one plate with red sauce and butter.”

I was amused. What is a Cheese Parantha? Being a kid from Bangalore, a multicultural, cosmopolitan city, I was quite certain I had experienced a fair amount of “North Indian” food. Cheese Parantha did not feature on the list. My curiosity knew no bounds – and I was thrilled to be sent on the assignment with an extra 30 Rupees with the meek: “Tujhe kuch chaihiye, tho lele.” My broken Hindi meant I nodded along and smiled without any knowledge of what was said to me.

But I went forth.

I didn’t really know where I was heading, I’ll be honest. Having joined GNLU 3 weeks late, I wasn’t up to speed with where things were or what random phrases meant (it would be 2 years before I understood KLPD, for example), so I had to ask for directions from my roommate, who smiled and accompanied me – because he was given Rs. 60 by another Senior.

As we chatted about what the “night mess” represented – my roommate explained that it was where Seniors devoured copious amounts of food and gained their supply of Caffeine for the night – my brain began to wonder about the Economics of it all. When I discovered that it was run by Mohani, I went into overdrive about how hilarious the Gujarati businessman trope was turning out to be. First loot the kids for mess food, and then operate a night mess where kids pay extra money to make more profits? Amazing.

That’s when we reached the stairs.

I’ll confess. I have this massive fear of heights, so even today, I’m bloody hesitant while climbing up the night mess stairs. My worst fear, and this is something I’ve almost experienced, is that, one day, when it is raining, I will slip while carrying food, and slide my way down to my death, clunking my head across the metal steps. But on that day, the fear of disappointing a senior and becoming publicly humiliated won over, and I trudged on.

In my first month, I was solely responsible for the collection of Rs. 3420 by Mohani Caterers. I made 41 trips to the night mess for seniors – and I have an Excel sheet tracking this (because I’m weird like that), with 23 Plates of Cheese Parantha ordered.

By the end of the month, Gopal knew my name.

In that month, I met every single batchmate of mine and got to know them over the question “Kiske liye hai yeh?” and “Kaunsa room jaa raha hai, bro?”

My identification of kind souls changed from those who had a smile on their faces and made warm conversation to those who offered to get your order along with theirs. While I came to Law School with the understanding that a lot of multitasking was necessary, I learnt that the biggest asset, in that first month, was your ability to juggle orders and remember personalized plate requests.

I hold nothing against those seniors, because my world has not been the same since.

Soon it was intra-season, and being caught up in the business of making an intra-memorial that would look nice (because Ctrl+Shift+K is so fun to do), I skipped dinner one evening. The hidden agenda was to eat Cheese Parantha myself, and understand what these seniors enjoyed about it. When I dined that evening with my friends, I learnt that it was possible to be rendered speechless by a singular food item.

As first year dwindled on, the night mess became my source of comfort. I stopped there everyday on my way back from the library at 12AM with my fellow enthu first-years, and had Hot Chocolate, and dabbled with tasting every item on the menu, before settling for 2 Aloo Onion Cheese Paranthas as my favourite (at the time).

But that’s enough about the food.

The night mess is a GNLU institution. It has belonged to us, the students, far longer than Aura has, and it has supplied us with a co-working space for more time than our “Students Lounge” has. The night mess is the facilitator of terrible lifestyle choices: late night calorie and caffeine consumption, and messing up your sleep cycle by guaranteeing you carbohydrates at 1:30AM. It’s the meeting point of every Committee (sans faculty), and the sole place on campus where you can attempt to understand what GNLU culture truly is.

The next time you’re at the night mess, stand bang-in-the middle and take a look around you. You’ll see an orderly queue for food, people chilling, people working, people playing board games, reading books, chatting about life, submitting a moot memorial. That’s what GNLU nurtures, right? Our lives here have flaws, granted, but you can’t deny that the University gives you the freedom to say, “Who cares, I’d like to do my own thing” and execute that thing.

That execution? Half of it is at the night mess. The identity you have is intertwined with your experience of the night mess. Are you a debater? You can’t get through 5 years without 1 debate, 1 motion breakdown, and 1 feedback session at the night mess. You’re a mooter? You would have finished draft discussions, and potentially constructed your memorial there. You’re a part of the Theatre/Music/Dinner Clubs? You’ve finished a performance and had a late-night dinner with everyone else from the club. You’re a Quizzer? Someone’s run through a quiz set there. Are you a GNLU Student? You’ve eaten at the night mess.

That’s what I love about the place the most.

Which is why it becomes so difficult to adapt to change, especially when any change to the night mess is a discredit to the years of regular service we have received.

There was a period I hated the night mess because of how uneconomical it had become and how tiny the portion sizes were. Paranthas were reduced from the large plate monstrosities we gobbled on, to these tiny things that could fit on disposables. We complained daily. Mohani relented, large paranthas were back.

In my second year, an attempt was made to shut the night mess earlier, at 1a.m. or so. Not much would have changed in 30 minutes. But we complained. And the night mess is open till today till 1:30 a.m..

The University attempted to ban us from bringing night mess food into the hostels for a while, a ban I refer to as “Five Days In Hell”. But that, as you can see, did not last very long.

My grouse today is twofold, starting with the coloured lighting.

It has been a month, and I cannot understand why we have blue, yellow, and red lighting at the night mess. Sources inform me that it is to ward off flies and mosquitoes, but I’ve been bitten and annoyed by both those creatures on my visits there.

To me, it’s also very weird that there is water on the table and cups which are readily available. It’s also super weird that the tables are aligned the way they are. I derived this simple joy at the night mess from picking an aerated drink because I had to walk further for water.

But I can adapt to that.

I’m getting used to the TV also. Because I think TV’s are useful for mass screenings, and such.

The lighting though, is not up my alley. White light is just more pleasant to look at, and makes work a lot easier. There is less squinting involved in understanding text when the light is white. This is a Scientific fact.

I also think that coloured lighting ruins the aesthetic of the night mess. I’m not sure how, but the night mess is suddenly less attractive to me as a location. While that is excellent for my waistline, my pocket, and my overall physical health, it’s very troubling for my emotional balance and well-being.

The second thing I find super weird is that people serve us at the night mess now. It’s made it so much more formal, like a restaurant, almost. I dislike that. A huge part of the night mess experience is the false hope that comes with someone screaming out your exact order, followed by a different person’s name, and the subsequent joy when your name is called out and you can sprint to claim what is yours.

That element of surprise is now gone, because you can see when the person is getting the food toward your table.

That is deeply disappointing. I’m hopeful that there is some discourse on this post or elsewhere that helps to make the night mess great again.

It is 4:30AM in the morning as I type this. To fully appreciate how much I love the night mess, you must understand that I have been unable to sleep because of two reasons:

1. The night mess was shut today and I therefore missed out on anda rice.
2. I’m thinking about how terrible tomorrow night’s dinner is so I have an excuse to eat anda rice.