Skip to main content

Strong Offense

Industrial Relations.
A well made PPT. A well organized Presentation. A nice relaxed completion.
Nine giggling peers in the corner. A presentation made to run for forty minutes with no contribution from anyone else. A team of ten, I stood alone.
"and to the last slide" after forty minutes of intricacies into worker-union-management relations.
I finish, announce for "any questions".
None came my way. Then the professor claps. Everyone does too.
Then comes the blow, "Well done presentation, with help from your seniors."
A charge of plagiarism. I could have died a thousand deaths.
Something in me died. I went ballistic.
I asked him about what he meant. He went on, telling us about last years work that he done. I interrupted, categorically stating that the work was mine and I standby whatever comes next.
Life for me is about standing true and I did.
I don't care who he is, what he can. I made it a point, to make him understand everything.
I stand alone...

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Raizada Heritage Fund and Trip to Woodlands

I have a confession to make. We don’t have a sofa at home. We seriously don’t.. Over the last two years, whenever Vartika has broached the touchy topic of a Sofa buy, I have ended up doing rants on how the money saved on not buying a Sofa would be able to feed us for a month, in case startup went bust. (And no, I was not counting on dumb UPA government allowing Sharad Pawar to make billions running amok on the vegetable and cereals market and looting us. In that case, count that sum to last for mere 15 days. That rant is for a separate day) Imagine a 30-40k sofa and me eating it, like the borers mostly do. Tough to imagine and sad to think of. So I return to the sofa tales. Vartika knew I had make her do with those mattresses. You know how dumb I am, relentlessly pointless. Unfortunately I ran into an Ariean, and that too my Mom. She looked at me and the mattresses and then again at me, and I went ballistic. From the sensibility of an accountant, to the eruditeness of an economist (De

Can life teach?

It actually began, quite reluctantly. Unnecessary as it may seem, life teaches you what you allow it to teach. Even Life cannot teach you what it offers you. One has to let himself dissolve into the experience and let it sink in, and that I might call religion or education. Whatever the other person is willing to accept. Nay. Does it matter? Nay. Life is about teaching oneself. Being a self-thought-taught "person", picking up bits and pieces from various experiences, I tread on a path; I have myself laid out for myself. Never have I asked, in other words, begged for words, from "messiahs". Never did I think myself of having enough virtue, call it patience, to learn from others. So "rich" were my experiences. Things change, dynamically. Responding to an open question, throwing caution to the winds, I immersed myself into a debate, with people who thought, had streamlined their thinking apparatus and abilities. Gradually, they pestered; read "lee

The void...

I feel empty. I feel raw. I feel rotten. I feel like not feeling. I have nothing to show, if someone to ask me about what I have achieved in my stay on this planet. Nothing. what is a few flirtations with literature, knowledge, pain and sweat. No blood. No tears. No medallions. No gallantry. Ah! I am disgusted with myself for being so ordinary. I deserve the void for I do not work half as hard as I could. I am wasting my life.