The Colombian Experience

The travel bug has bit again, albeit in a more quasi academic way this time: Colombia & Ecuador. So while it has been a while that I have returned to the city of dreams, the memories of a continent conveniently forgotten by us, are fresh in my mind. The "lesser" America, however, is a place which will make you feel that you are a part of a different world. Everything from people in the streets wishing you Buneos Diaz (Good morning) to underground salt cathedrals to bonding with a Pakistani restaurant owner in the tourist district of Quito, Ecuador, just for the most diverse experiences it has to offer, South America, without doubt has proved to be my best trip ever. However, sweet as these experiences might be, the trip has also changed the way I look at people, cultures and most importantly nations.

For a country often famous for the likes of Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Fernando Botero and Shakira, there exists another narrative. A narrative which has often been relegated to the shadows, or which often presented in a manner to obscure even the semblance of truth. So while one may know Colombia for its infamous drug trade or famous coffee, there are far important things happening in the fabric of the nation, which is there for everyone to see. For a country ravaged by war for over 40 years, where 5 companies control 92% of the assets, it may seem the story of every Latin american country. Unfortunately, the script is pretty much the same, just the names change. So while we wonder what has gone wrong with a nation which produced greats like Marquez, I would quote Marquez himself. In this short and powerful piece addressed to America, he sums up what has gone wrong for this beautiful continent. So while the west may dismiss the art of Fernando Botero as frivolous and pathetic, it is only making an intensely powerful statement, about the unwavering resolve & the absolute truth of the voice of the people and its own guilt ridden conscience . The above rambling could go on and on, but I leave you with this pic, my pick of the trip.

I clicked this one, just as I was stepping out of Museo Botero (the museum which houses the works of Fernando Botero). I had just had a discussion with one of the museum employees, a student of anthropology, which made me realize what a contrived world we live in. The photo to me is a grim reminder of how the history of nations is often not defined by the decisions it takes, but more often by the decisions it does not take. Why, do we, younger and smaller nations, willingly let someone else take our destiny in their hands. The girl walking past the sign, to me, are the people like us, who allow this to happen. For as this graffiti correctly points out, the people of the country do not wish their country to become yet another imperialistic conquest, a nation whose existence depends completely on another, whose legitimacy has been questioned time and again, whose image in the eyes of the world ranges from a homeland for Jews to a rouge nation. However, whatever be the image, this has not been actively constructed by its people, on whose sweat and blood the country survives. And that to me is the biggest tragedy. A nation, whose voices and screams have been muffled out of existence, for whom only an anonymous display of their ideology is possible, a demand which screams out to be met, a journey which was cancelled before it began, a dream nipped in the bud, a blow stuck down deep into the roots, a conquest of mind space and a victory of insanity. Its an "illegal" social activity which questions the legitimacy of the fabric which we live in and in turn redefine the same. It is that voice which is free from the bondage of journalism, of conforming to the norm. One look at the streets of Colombia, and there is Graffiti all around, every square inch of public space has been used as a canvas, for larger canvasses are never available to them. Only in the streets one can find the true spirit of Colombia, for the people there are still alive, unlike us ( & yes I mean Indians) who comfortably live our cushy lives, without giving too much of a thought to where are we heading as a society and as a nation. We are not very different from them, have similar kinds of issues in our own backyard, but yet I have more hope for the Colombian nation than my own, because they are a nation of living people, who still have the pride, courage and self respect to raise their heads and say what they feel, for them I have hope that they may usher in a better future. The stereotype of Colombia as a violent country is rooted in reality. However, changing the stereotype is not about changing the image, its about changing the reality, so that a more beautiful and equitable image evolves.

Art, Nation and Memory

What do you think an artist is? An imbecile who has only eyes if he is a painter, or ears if he is a musician or a lyre in every chamber of his heart if he is a poet, or even, if he is a boxer, just his muscles? Far, far from it: at the same time, he is also a political being, constantly aware of the heartbreaking, passionate, or delightful things that happen in the world, shaping himself completely in their image. How could it be possible to feel no interest in other people, and with a cool indifference to detach yourself from the very life which they bring to you so abundantly? No, painting is not done to decorate apartments. It is an instrument of war.

- Picasso in an interview with Simone Tery, March 24, 1945


“An artist cannot fail; it is a success to be one.” Art is a form of personal expression, which goes beyond having a purpose, for no artist is a success or a failure, as he creates to speak the only way he can: by creating more art. However, sometimes art takes such a form that it has the ability to encompass the complexities of life and the travails of humanity, where the brush strokes are made, keeping in mind the conscience of a nation. When nations go through turbulent times, it’s often art that brings out the spirit and the struggle of the people. It is then used simultaneously as a weapon and as a support system, to inflict and heal wounds at the same time. There is an undying quality about art which allows it to be timeless, and for the discerning reader, it offers a multitude of reflections. It’s a harbinger of learning’s for the future, and memories of the past are evoked.

The past and the future together create the present, for it is impossible for the present to exist without the cognizance of the past or a vision for the future. It is only natural that nations rely on their past and history to define and identify themselves. It gives them the legitimacy to carry on with their ideas and present it to the future generations to come. However, how does a nation confront its past when it has been a victim of the mistakes of its own people? Is it prudent to forget such a past, glossing over it and covering up the mistakes done by its people? Or should the nation be constantly reminded of the wrong road once taken, to ensure that the same path is never trodden again. This is where precisely art comes in, as it does not allow people to forget, the follies of God’s greatest creation.

When nations are under conflict, along with war and the loss of their identity, many things have been confiscated from the people: not only their homes and their possessions but also their memory. It’s an invisible loss which one fails to see in the state of misery and obvious losses. However, it is a loss which is far more important, for it exists in the realm of the mind, a territory often considered difficult to access. Moreover, war by its nature is made to be a human condition which encourages amnesia, which leads us to a situation where we erase one memory and construct a new one – we are forever in a state of enforced amnesia and enforced remembrance.

But most importantly, the arts intend to explore the critical questions: What is history and what is memory, what is personal and what is collective memory? Collective memory arises out of the consciousness of the personal memory of people. However, collective memory can be erased and rewritten, constructed and reconstructed, confiscated and confiscated and deemed politically correct or incorrect. The constant struggle for the territory of collective memory is the reason behind the political and power struggle. So while the world mourns the losses the nation incurred, one must not forget that the misfortune of others is free and does not hurt. We may sympathize and pity, but it will be forever hard for us to comprehend the actual truth, to truly understand and comprehend the losses of the people. Collective memory is one such loss, which being multifaceted and complex could be grasped only by the people who have been victims. It could be safely said that while the nation intends to construct a new collective memory, through its art, a reconfestication of the lost collective memory is warranted.

Wanderings of a Bookaholic

A long wait like this has to be broken on an instinct. The blog has been lying dormant ever since I returned, so I thought the best way to get things rolling would be to talk about something which has been on my mind ever since I picked up Narcissus and Goldmund by Hermann Hesse. Having read him earlier, I had an inkling of what I could expect, knowing his inclination towards eastern mysticism, but the book delivered much more than I expected. Fiction does not catch my imaginations as much as non fiction does, but once in a while I come across an author who completely blows me away.

And in the recent past, I have managed to find three such masters, about one of whom fera says has an effect of making the reader go back to the themes, all the time, it’s like being in the eye of the tornado. The greatest quality about these people, is not their ability to hold your interest, which is a difficult job in itself, but its their ability to make you realize, with each passing moment, that these men have far surpassed their craft, are beyond setting benchmarks for others to achieve, gone beyond scratching the surface and revealing the undercurrents, those swirling mystical designs, intriguing and captivating and sometimes thoroughly confusing. What they have managed to achieve is transporting the reader into a universe, not created by them, but created by the reader himself. I have hardly seen my imagination firing all cylinders until I stumbled upon them.

The experience so reminds me of rivulets, the tiny off shoots of rivers, who branch away from the main river only to rejoin in the end. During their existence, they have a semi fluous identity, one governed by the obstacles it finds in its path, and yet governed by the mother river, because its course has also been decided by the mother. As one delves into the writings of these men, you feel like a rivulet. They completely overpower your senses and make you float in an ephemeral world, but the joy this ephemeral submission to their thoughts is long enough to keep your head spinning in and out of consciousness. Your identity in those fleeting moments is not identified by who you are but with the way the author decides to play with your mind. You end up playing a mind game in which you don’t have an identity of your own, just like the rivulet, is made up of this contradicting duality, one fighting to deny the truth, the other meekly acquiescing to the very obvious.

But beyond all this, the one single thing which puts them into a different league altogether is their ability to jolt you out of your lives, the times when you thought the whole world would pause and ponder over the words of these masters, and try to assimilate an infinitesimally small bit of it into your own self. But what is even more fascinating is that all three of them do it in starkly different ways, each so brilliant in their own way. It does make me think of a question asked millions of times in the past, what is the right way to reach God? But again isn’t God another way which asks you to look within, something which stimulates your thoughts, makes you think about things which normally don’t merit a second look or conveniently forget. So if three of god’s own creations themselves manage to do so in entirely different ways, I already have my answer for the right path to reach Him. The right path is always the one you choose.

This post was supposed to be a review of the above mentioned book, and yet again, they have managed to play mind games with me, and I end up writing something which I never intended to.

Between the lines

A post long overdue

Ramblings of a colorful hue

The moods ranging from Red, White and Blue

The flavor of a perfect brew

The start of something new

The start of something new

The start of something new

August 2003 – April 2007:

The best years of my Life. Found a wonderful group of friends and a superb bunch of seniors. Whatever I am today, I owe it to these guys. I felt that I couldn’t have better Mentors and Companions in the formative years of my life. I realized the advantages of studying in a NIT.

Somewhere in my 3rd year, I started my preps for CAT. I took up CAT because I realized technical stuff is not my cup of tea. So took the default CAT route. Meanwhile discovered PG .Browsed a lot but hardly posted. During my 3rd year got an opportunity to work with The Times of India. I worked as a freelancer for almost a year. That’s where I developed an inclination towards Media. But as the one year passed, I realized that though I was good at writing, content creation was not what exactly I was looking for. I felt I needed to go beyond the content part and more into the business, planning and execution side of it. But I had a zilch idea of how to go about it. One day, my mentor at IMS talked about going for niche institutes like TISS, IRMA and MICA. I went and checked PG and found threads dedicated to MICA. I was able to see some enthusiastic aspirants talking about trying hard to get in. I developed contacts with Chuck_gopal and he told me a lot about MICA those days, taking the pains of answering my stupid queries, though he himself was an aspirant. Slowly, I started getting inclined towards MICA. As time flew past my fascination only grew.

Nov 2006:

Took CAT, did ok and ended up with a 95.xx. All hopes of getting into a regular MBA were dashed. I still had MICA in my hand. I started my preps for MICA GE/PI and did what a usual aspirant does. By then, I had already been converted into a MICA fanatic. I was pretty confident of making it to MICA as I felt I had done my bit (or so I thought). And how wrong I was! Had a decent MICAT and GE (Group Exercise). But the PI was just okayish and they didn’t really ask me anything. When the results came out, I was shocked. I didn’t make it. Following is my blog entry post result.

http://utsavmamoria.blogspot.com/2007/03/boulevard-of-broken-dreams.html

I consoled myself saying that I still have a good job at hand. Graduated and joined Accenture at Chennai in June 2007.


The Chennai Phase:


The time I spent in Chennai was superb courtesy puys. I was lucky again to find a wonderful peer group in them. I got back to serious preps in August and took the Sim Cats. This time around I was much clearer in my head. I was taking CAT with the sole intention of getting into MICA. I was doing decently in my mocks. I wrote CAT 2007 and felt I did ok .But when I came back and checked my answers; I was in for a shock. I fared pathetically in Verbal and DI. All my hopes of getting into MICA came crashing down. I went ahead and filled my MICA form. I was damn pissed with myself and wrote the following mail to chuck

I have checked my scores.
And after checking them, I don’t think that MICA would be interested in giving me an interview call.
I have screwed up royally in DI and Verbal keys are ambiguous as usual. So it seems that my dream of getting into MICA will have to wait.
I was reading Shantaram the other day and i came across a line there.
"Luck is what happens when fate gets tired of waiting "

Sincerely hoping that IIM's feel that I deserve a better Verbal score
and MICA feels I deserve to get in.
But all that will have to wait, because things don’t seem to be
happening well this time around.
Still going ahead and filling the MICA form. Will require your inputs on that.



I didn’t prepare a thing after this. But I still had faint hopes in my heart. So religiously worked on my MICA form.


CAT results were out. I was in for another shock. A pleasant one at that. My Verbal % ile rocketed to 97.xx thus pushing my overall %ile to 94.xx. I felt redeemed. I jumped into MICA preps and was consumed by a passion like none other. I did extensive preparations for my GE/PI, even to the extent of devouring a text on Media prescribed by MICA for Term I. I researched heavily on MICA and worked on each word of my MICA form. I just wasn’t ready to take any chances.

13th March 2008.


The Big day

Here goes my PI Experience


The 3 Panelist were
R1-----> Richa Agarwal
R2------> Rita Kothari
H ------> Hemant Trivedi
PWB ---> Yours truly the Prodigious Willing Bakra



Moi Enters and greetings exchanged.

H- Utsav, you are from Anand, so tell me which river flows near Anand.
PWD - Mahi River

H- No, there is another river which flows tell me about it.
PWD - No Idea

H - its ...Took a name which i had never heard in my life
[Checked with people in Anand.. no one has heard of it either ]

R1 takes over

R1- You career Path is Mechanical Engg----> Software------> MICA ? Where are you heading

PWB- Gave a very honest answer. Took Engg because that was the best option available to me after 12th.Told her about taking an IT job because could not make it to MICA last year.

H takes over again

H - You have studied in Surat (NIT Surat). Were you there when the floods came last year? Why did the floods come?

PWB - Told about administrative apathy. Releasing cusecs of water blah blah. About water being not released after it crossed the danger mark.

H- I think every housewife has an earthen pot at her home. She knows when to close/open the tap of her earthen pot. What were the 'engineers" doing. That’s just basic commonsense. What use is their engineering then? Anyone could have done that job

PWB - Sir, One needs commonsense to open close the Dam gate, but one requires expertise to determine what the Danger level is. That’s where engineering comes in

H - Utsav, Tell me something about the different types of gates in a Dam
PWB- Sir

H repeats the question

PWB- Told him about that being a part of civil engineering, Me a Mechanical Engineer

H grilled me more on all that

R 2 takes over

R 2 - You worked for the response feature in TOI. What was your work all about?
PWB - Had a nice discussion with her on that.

R 2 - Why don’t you like self help books? (Form based dislikes)
PWB - Talked about books being written from a very personal perspective. Most authors US based. Themes not identifiable with Indians yada yada.

R 2 - Your mom is a PhD?
PWB - Yes Maam

R 2 - Which subject and what was her thesis topic?
PWB - Hindi - Ram kavya parampara main prakriti chitran

R 1, R 2, H - Can you please explain that ?
PWB - Explained them the thesis topic.

R 2 - What about your dad, Is he also a Ph D?
PWB - Yes Ma'am

R 2 - So who do you relate to more, your mom or dad?
PWB - Told Mom. Dad passed away when I was 10.

R 1 , R 2, H - Oh
R 2 - What books do you read ?
PWB - Talked about fiction, non fiction , authors etc

R 2 seemed satisfied

R 1 takes over again

R 1 - I think you are a waste of National Resources
PWB - Maam I didn’t get you

R 1 You have wasted an engineering seat in a good college . It could have gone to a deserving student.
PWB - talked about learning, and the development of thought process yada yada

R 1 - You don’t deserve to be a software engineer in an organization like Accenture
PWB - Talked about company must have invested in me only if they saw potential, told that can give any other software engineer a run for his money

R 1 - What do you do in your free time.?
PWB - Talked about thinking and observing things around me. Talked about Why Tiger woods is our Brand Ambassador, Branding of Accenture etc (The only MICA relevant thing I felt )

R 1 - Thank you Utsav, You can leave now

Somewhere in the middle, talked about my work and security of a career. Forgot some part.

Nothing on Media Management, on MICA, Favorite Ads, Hated ads, expectations from MICA

Came out. I lost appetite. Met some other MICAns I knew.

After the horrible interview, I felt like killing myself. I think my reaction to the interview had two different but yet similar (I Know sounds confusing) aspects to it.

The Knee jerk reaction: The moment I came out of the interview, I felt I blew it. The feeling was so overpowering at that very moment, so intensely it manifested itself, that it took me by surprise. I felt that a strange void had developed in me or rather enveloped me, in those 20 minutes. A void which was so devoid of any hope or even a faint streak of faith which was like an empty dried up well in a parched land. The well had always been providing for its people, quenching their thirsts, on which the life of the people depended. The fate and condition of the well was directly linked to those of the people. One fine day, they discover that the well is dry. It’s now just a deep ditch, in which the future of the people totters, dirtying itself in the messy muddy water that has been left for it. The future is not perennially damaged, as the mud can be washed off. But the appearance it dons presently is enough to give one an outlook of a bleak future, a terrifying end and a start of truckload of problems staring at me point blank.

The second reaction: The one of a more logical and rational analysis of the situation. Unfortunately that didn’t happen either, at least not completely. All the preparation I had done, all the hours of hard work put in , all the little sacrifices I made, All the hours of brainstorming that went in, came rushing back to me. The only thought which came to my head: So much for just these shitty 20 minutes. The mistake I made was a very simple one: I expected way too much. I expected the perfect interview. I fell into the trap, of hoping that things will go the way I imagined, the way I planned. I set the bar so high for myself, I set an unrealistic expectation, which in the heart of my hearts, knew will not happen. My escapist tendencies got the better of me and I refused to see things as they were. I was not ready to accept, that yet again, luck had played out its neat little game. Luck is a mistress from the far away lands. You hear great stories of its beauty, its glory, its power to sway fortunes, conquer kingdoms, annihilate people, humble the haughty and you see all this as an innocent bystander. You are secure at the back of the mind, that you are shielded from its fickle actions. You accept that hard work can get you anywhere, irrespective of whether the lady favors you. Then, one fine day, when you are at the precipice of your destiny, she swoops in from nowhere, blindfolds you and spins you around. It then expects you to reach your target, minus the focus, minus the determination, minus the direction and most importantly the faith. You, who were sitting on a gold mine a little while ago, are now more like an average Californian during the Gold Rush, who just came in with equipments, having as much idea about mining as you have of figuring out why you are still reading this rambling of mine.

21st March:


Exactly 1 year after last years reject, got a message from Chuck saying that the results are out. He asked me to check my mail. There I found a mail from the Admissions which said


To: UTSAV
Form #: 5656

Dear UTSAV


Congratulations! You have been selected for the PGPCM 2008-2010.


My mind went blank. I just stared into the screen like an Idiot. I was now a MICAn.


A few Learning’s:


1.Don‘t take CAT too seriously. It’s just an exam. There is life beyond CAT and the IIM's.

2. Never buckle under pressure. I learnt this from my mom, who single handedly brought up my elder sister and me without anyone’s support. I feel my task was much much easier than hers.

3. Accept failure. Understand why you failed. Move on.

4. You are probably 20/25/30. You have your whole life ahead of you. Don’t kill yourself for failing in life. We all fail. It all boils down to how hard we take on ourselves.

5. Keep focus, especially if you are aiming for a niche institute. You will have your moments of self doubt, the lure of going for a regular MBA, Fat salaries. Be prepared to take the risk of taking up a niche course. Battle your insecurities. All this because you are still ahead of most people. You already know what you want to do.

Someone asked me: Now what? You have achieved what you wanted. So what’s next?

Dreams are not just to be achieved. They are to be lived once they turn into reality. It’s the culmination of all the effort you put in. The thrill of wanting something and then getting it is unparalleled. In these 22 revolutions the earth has made, I have realized, failure is not fatal, and Success is not final. They are not final points in our lives, they are just milestones, indicating that the road is yet to traveled and unraveled. What ultimately counts is what you gain from the chasm of time between these milestones, between success and failure.

P.S Oops!! For the uninitiated : MICA

Shantaram: Writings and Beyond

Just finished reading Shantaram. In case you know me or have stumbled upon my blog from somewhere on the net, I’ll let you know that I love reading, to the point of being crazy about it. But very few books have so brilliantly, subtly and mysteriously intrigued me to the point that I am writing this at 3 am in the night. I don’t want to review the book or tell you about its plot, which you can anyways find here. What I felt like writing about are the beautiful quotes in the book. Reading them I felt as if he has packed his life's experiences, his pain, his love, his musings and most importantly his learning’s in so few words. The insight shown in these quotes is not something one can pick up so easily; it probably requires one to go through a lot of things which we don’t like or through events which unexpectedly define the course of our life. We all ultimately want to think that we are the river, cutting across different terrains and making its own way, its own path and probably its own destination. But we ultimately end up being nothing more than a cascade, natural yet governed , important yet short lived, beautiful yet perishable, the contrast only too natural to see; yet never so visible to us, though its dancing stark naked, shouting at the top of its voice trying to be as conspicuous as possible. The most obvious things in the world are the ones most often missed. We fail to see things in retrospect, forgetting the value of experience, or again, perhaps not wanting to look back, for what we see in our past, are failures and sorrows. This brings me to a point where I feel I need to share with you some lines from this masterpiece of a book.

Nothing in any life, no matter how well or poorly lived, is wiser than failure or clearer than sorrow. And in the tiny precious wisdom they give to us, even those dreaded and hated enemies, suffering and failure, have their reason and their right to be.

Sometimes we love with nothing more than hope. Sometimes we cry with everything except tears. In the end that's all there is: love and its duty, sorrow and its truth. In the end that's all we have - to hold on tight until the dawn

Come to think of it, whatever we achieve and whatever we don’t are actually equally important to us. The victory is a kind of hope that good things happen, not by a twist of fate, but by conscious effort. The defeats are things which we ought to learn from, the wise, harsh teacher. Hope and wisdom are like unidentical twins; the pedigree being the same, yet a mutated gene is all that makes them different. Wisdom brings about hope, and hope allows us to stay foolish, and its this foolishness that keeps us going. Under the surface, if one scratches a little, one can find the connection too evident to see.

Sorrow is something I believe that everyman should face. We only count our blessings when all is lost, and it’s only possible for the cruelest of emotions to force man to think about his blessings. Only in the most depressing times, when one lays low and feels a churning in his stomach so strong that the feeling of being even something evades you totally, we just thank our stars for having people who love us, around us. We are essentially a thankless species. Period.

If fate doesn't make you laugh, you just don't get the joke

Fate’s way of beating us in a fair fight is to give us warnings that we hear, but never heed.

Fate always gives you two choices, the one you should take, and the one you do.

Every human heartbeat is a universe of possibilities. And it seemed to me that I finally understood exactly what he’d meant. He’d been trying to tell me that every human will has the power to transform its fate. I’d always thought that fate was something unchangeable: fixed for every one of us at birth, and as constant as the circuit of stars. But I suddenly realized that life is stranger and more beautiful than that. The truth is that no matter what kind of game you find yourself in, no matter now good or bad the luck, you can change your life completely with a single thought or a single act of love

I don’t want to spoil these words by giving you any interpretations. Just think about major turning points in your life and you will get the brutal and honest meanings of these lines. I just feel that accept some things as they are and try to change your fate. We sometimes adopt a to defeatist attitude towards life. Some things are not meant to be. Some things are meant to be only if we have the courage and the conviction to pursue them. The only difference between the two is the effort one puts in.

Personality and person identity are in some ways like co-ordinates on the street map drawn by intersecting relationships. We know who we are and we define what we are by references to the people we love and our reasons for loving them.

Fate gives all of us three teachers, three friends, three enemies, and three great loves in our lives. But these twelve are always disguised, and we can never know which one is which until we’ve loved them, left them, or fought them.

This is how important people are in our lives. There is not one word in these lines that I will not give my right arm for. I truly believe that I exist because of the people around me.

And for people who take life too seriously

The real trick in life is to want nothing, and succeed in getting it.

Truth is a bully we all pretend to like

The fully mature man or woman has about two seconds left to live.

If you make your heart into a weapon, you always end up using it on yourself.

And to understand what Mumbai or in general India is, the best of them all

I’m a Jew, French, criminal and gay; Bombay is the only city in the world that allows me to be all four at once - Dider Levy (A character in the book)

To top it all

The facts of life are very simple. In the beginning we feared everything - animals, the weather, the trees, the night sky - everything except each other. Now we fear each other and almost nothing else. No one knows why anyone does anything. no one tells the truth. No one is happy. No one is safe. In the face of all that is so wrong with the world, the very worst thing you could do is survive. And yet you must survive. It is the dilemma that makes us believe and cling to the lie that we have a soul, and that there is a god who cares about its fate.