Category: Blog

Temperatures in Gujarat have gone up ridiculously quickly. Normally I really like the heat because the temperature only hits unbearable levels in May, and it’s a refreshing change because it’s very energizing, in a sense. In summer, I find my laziness to be minimized because I don’t feel like cuddling up and sleeping on my bed. I prefer being indoors, yes, but I’m okay staying up on my chair and doing work.

Also, heat means more excuses to eat ice-cream and drink tender coconut water and consume other cool beverages. I like that too.

Except, Gujarat decided to experience a heat wave before it’s gradual rise in temperatures. Which means that the temperature here hit peaks even before “summer” weather actually started. Which is draining.

Anyway, I’ll be out of here in a bit, so it’s futile complaining about the weather.

Today, I spent some time thinking about how I used to pack my bag as a child. Every single night before school. We had textbooks and notebooks for every single subject, and I remember my parents cultivating this habit of ensuring my bag was packed every night before I went to sleep. It involved a couple of things, usually done in sequence. First was taking everything out of my bag. Then I had to look at the time-table and arrange all the books I needed for the next day. And then I had to arrange these in height order and place them in my bag – with labels facing in front.

After that I had to take my pencilbox and ensure that every pencil was sharpened and I had all the tools I needed to make sure that my day would go on without a hitch. The last part of this, when I was younger, involved showing my parents my Diary – so they could check that there were no important Circulars or Notifications I had forgotten to share with them.

It was only after this exercise that I was allowed to sleep.

Eventually though, as subjects reduced, I stopped caring so much about having a packed bag. Instead, I became lazy, and ensured that I had every book, every single day. This was fuelled primarily by my laziness. However, a large contributing factor was also the fact that my class timetable literally changed on a daily basis. Eventually, by the time 12th rolled around, I turned up to class with zero knowledge of what classes were happening, but one hundred percent confidence that I had everything I needed in my bagpack.

This was because I didn’t empty my bagpack ever.

I remember cleaning it out on the last day of Grade 12 and finding my first worksheet packed in somewhere. And some notes I had made the year before.

My mum never understood why I carried so much, but I carried it nonetheless. I carry that forward to today. I haven’t really unpacked my college bag since the semester started. I have 6 subjects, so I carry 6 books (even though I  write only in 2), one miscellaneous book, and a diary, for meetings.

The only thing I legitimately do every night is re-fill ink in my pen.

Maybe I should start packing my bag again. If nothing, it made me feel like I had accomplished something small. And I always headed into the day feeling prepared. Maybe that’s why my parents made me do it.

So the last post had a lot about Mumbai’s rap scene, because DIVINE performed on campus yesterday. But the first Indian rapper I heard was Brodha V, so, if you haven’t heard him already:

I got super into Indian music and into the Bangalore music scene after I heard him. There’s so much out there, it’s pretty phenomenal.

But today has marked the end of Pentagram. It’s been a wild three days of festing. Today I saw my only real opportunity to make some money slip past me – because of an incredibly long quiz finals set, but I ate biryani and pancakes, and my world is completely fine.

In other news, I’ve managed to meet all my writing deadlines for this weekend (and there were a lot) – so that’s something I’m happy to celebrate.

Tomorrow marks the beginning of a massive week and month in my life. There are two moots I’m involved in starting this week, and GloPoWriMo generally. Also, it’s my final month of fourth year – so my final month before I’m away from campus for a good three months before coming back for final year.

That’s insane. Time has gone by so rapidly.

Also birthday month is coming soon too. So, exciting days lie ahead.

and,

Bonus video:

 

Pentagram is here!

I won’t be writing much for the next three posts, especially since GloPoWriMo is coming up, so here are videos that are associated with the fest’s activities:

Very honestly, the worst part about having traditional day on campus is that it’s my annual reminder that I forgot to pack a panche (a Kannada dhoti) when I came to campus after the break.

However, I think all Indians look better than normal in traditional attire, and the effort it takes to dress up in good traditional attire is amazing. It’s also a reminder of how diverse this country is – something I really enjoy learning more about.

Also, and I can’t stress this enough: cotton kurtas are ridiculously comfortable.

Today was cosplay day. And my friends and I – who had well-meaningly decided on an outfit theme ages ago, ended up throwing things together in the last minute. Some of the outfits were easy enough. Others were half-assed. Which has made me nostalgic for the time I used to put in a lot of effort for outfits. I wonder where that went.

I remember this one time there was some garbage fashion show thing. Where we had to use the trash to come up with outfits for a fashion show. And this was when I was trying really hard to be “cool”. So I dressed up as a skateboarder. Wore whatever I felt like, because that’s how I roll. And used a Pepsi can (two) to create the elbow and knee pads. If I recall correctly, some other item from my garbage formed a helmet. This was Grade 5.

But I think my half-assing also came out well. I’ve put on some weight at home, which gave me the look I really needed.

Tonight was also ball night, and dressing up for that was a lot of fun. I had help with my wardrobe, got photos, and then went back to doing moot work.

Pentagram is an exciting time for everyone on campus. The SAC does a pretty great job of ensuring people are happy. Both this year and last year, I’ve joined the Organizing Committee for the event – and while last year I could do absolutely nothing, I’ve been helping out a little with social media coverage and the Treasure Hunt we conducted this year – which was a lot of fun!

The Treasure Hunt, conceptually, has been a huge part of my life. When I was younger, we celebrated New Years’ Eve and Day every single year in Abu Dhabi, with my family friends and their friends. It was just a grand party, and was one of the few gatherings my parents took me to where I had people of my age-group. I really, really loved the company there while growing up, and although my family only met everyone together only once a year, we always felt included and welcome. One of the events was the Treasure Hunt, that 2 Uncles would set up – and absolutely rattle our brains with. I struggled with the clues every year. And the Treasure was always small, but cute & worth it – like gold coin chocolates. Or something of the sort.

I remember one of the clues when I was younger being my name backwards. Sajet – some “South African jet” puzzle that you had to crack. It was insane.

This year was pretty special that way too.

I’ve felt guilty not being able to contribute to some of the committees I end up joining – because of moot work or other commitments I have during the time. But I guess contributing even a little gives you some satisfaction. The Treasure Hunt did that for me. I’m looking forward to helping out as much as I can over the weekend, for I know I’ve not been able to help as much through this week.

Pentagram, man. Probably the only thing worth walking out in the Gujarat heat right now.

This year I’m participating in a moot court competition but I’m not traveling with my team. This unique situation has given me an opportunity to involve myself in a lot of what my team does – but also, understand where the sphere of my influence ends, as a team member, and how much I need to trust individuals on my team, to know they will make the right call when it matters, and do the best they can, always. The same way they trust me.

I’d like to say this at the outset. I’m not traveling this year. This is the first moot in which I’m participating as a researcher. It’s been a lot of learning in the last eight months. The moot is happening in the next week, but I wanted to take time to write about how I feel right now – because I know I’ll be too caught up with things next week to write about the moot itself.

Our University has done well at mooting. This is evidenced by the mooting accolades we have managed to collect. There is a culture that surrounds mooting euphoria that is impossible to describe. As with other places, that culture has changed: there are fewer people mooting these days. However, the intensity of mooting as an activity has not.

The positive aspects of this I have written about before. But, the negatives are not often things we talk about. There’s an over-emphasis on mooting (I say this as a mooter), and there’s also a lot of politics that has surrounded the activity that has taken away from it’s enjoyability. The biggest criticism I have of the mooting set-up at our University is that it created a culture that undervalued research sometimes. And the role of a researcher.

I’ve honestly hated that – on several moot teams I have seen researchers get sidelined when oral preparation begins, or, a disproportionate burden put on them, or, the worse, second-class treatment. That “they’re not equal” on the team, or that their say doesn’t matter as much. I’ve been blessed enough to work with 3 researchers who became some of my closest friends, see some of my closest friends evolve into being excellent researchers, and generally, witness what good researchers do, up-close. I’ve also seen them struggle with the role: feeling like they don’t contribute as much at the oral stage of preparation. And I’ve sympathized, but never been able to explain to them how much I thought they mattered.

I think researchers are equals on teams. And it’s time they get that credit. I’m experiencing the researcher role now – and I know that I can’t do it to the full extent, because I’m not traveling with my team. But, I also do know that I can say with full confidence that the involvement in the moot is factually not at all deserving of the kind of treatment that some moot teams give their researchers.

Think about going researcher-less into a moot. Then talk.

(I do know of a team that did this and found it difficult although they overcame it with grace, but difficult, it was.)

I just wanted to highlight that one thing about moot culture.

Other things this time have been great. I’ve been blessed with good teammates again, a nice problem, great guidance, interesting Law.

I do know what I’m missing out on, by not traveling. But I can’t say I’m regretting it because I know my teammates are doing everything they can to enjoy themselves and give the moot their best shot – something I would have tried to do as well.

Being back on campus after spending time at home has incited mixed feelings in me. I feel rejuvenated and all that, but I’m also incredibly sleepy and feel very tired – an effect, I attribute, in part, to the fact that I was lucky enough to sleep a lot at home when I was there.

I’ve also brought back some food supplies with me – which is exciting generally, because I’ve always got stuff in my room that I can nibble on in case the food at the mess truly gets to me. Again, there is a downside to this: I need to carry out the incredibly arduous task of rationing.

Finishing all my supplies will mean suffering during exam-time – a sadness I am not quite prepared for.

Today is also the first day of Pre-Pentagram week – pyjama day. I’ve marked it by wearing a paper airplane pyjama, and some headgear a friend loaned me. So of course, this is the only song in my head:

I can’t quite piece together how I feel about home,
Because I’ve found that in the last four years, I carry home
In a suitcase,
With food my mother packs me, and
Formals my dad has helped me pick out.

I carry home with me in my pocket,
To class when I’m running and typing,
“Good morning” on my family group,
Or in the scent of a freshly washed, square folded, white
Handkerchief,
That I’ve seen my father carry everyday.

I carry home in my wallet,
With different currencies,
And home on my wrist,
With different timezones – tracking the movement of each family member.

I carry home everywhere,
But feel at home only when I’m surrounded by the people I track,
The people I fight with the most,
And the people I joke about most often.

I feel at home only when I turn off the lights in their room at 9:30pm,
And switch on the AC in the hall.
When I secretly drink Schweppes Ginger Ale when they’re asleep,
And when I half-stumble awake to hug my dad before he goes to work.

Which is why I realise,
I don’t carry home anywhere.
Home carries me.
Home carries me when I am weak-willed,
When I am tired.
And when I am sick of the dal in the mess.

But home also carries me when I receive good news,
It carries me atop a small mountain and says,
“Look up”,
Reminding me that several peaks are yet to be scaled.

 

This has sprung to mind because I ate a Chiquita banana today.