NCMC 2010

Hangover of a second semester.

Just before the session Midhun takes the mike and asks R-alwani

“Sir, Will you leave the ppt’s or should we note down the content?"

R-alwani: “ SIMC 2010?”

Midhun: “Yes sir” ( with a surprised look, as if he is standing in front of a soothsayer)

R-alwani understands the agape looks and replies:

"SIMC-ians in the industry waits and waits for a client to come. Before the discussion starts, he says, Sir, can we have your presentation in a pen drive. I'll read it at home and let you know tomorrow, which never comes.

Kal kare so kal kar ( Tomorrow? yes.& don't expect too much )

Aaj kare so.. woh bhi kal.

Kal kare jo parso.

And then comes a question from the SIMC-ian

Can we submit it tomorrow at 10. ( Don't be WOW ) They don't speak the present Indian Railway time nor the CNN-IBN time. They follow the Indian Stretchable 12 hour format. 10 PM, is it? "

Ahem Ahem.. yes yes

Midhun: “ Ayyo… I will note it all”

• People say that NCMC wasn’t too boring and was one of the best events conducted by the college.

Random deduction: Why wouldn't they? All Symbiosis institute directors had to attend a high-level mandatory meeting at the university, which otherwise would have resulted in a penalty of Rs 1000/- from the caution dep...err.. salary to be deposited and/or suspension upto a week. So all of them attended, including...

Ting ting. The bus moves on.

Chief sponsors – Spicejet.

A special meeting was convened by Spicejet at Pune to learn how to tackle situations like NCMC, where money is given, yet the logo is in competition with a font size of 12.

Results of the meeting: Spicejet does not like to wash dirty linen in public. They are offering specialized zoom lens for the back benchers and magnifying glass to the front seaters for any SIMC program to make their logo visible from the creative clutter.

Some Jokes:

• Syllabus given after the exams is equivalent to giving water after death.

OK.. rectified. Given just before the exams are due...

So?

A slight change. Giving water while on the death bed.

• Third semester topics in the second semester??

Midhun: "Why?? Areyyy suno....We had been so proactive that the second semester syllabus was covered comfortably and we are foraying into the third semster"

Wow….I'm impressed.

Midhun: "Yeah.. we believe in productive man hours."

There ends love...

The mobile phone rang incessantly. A ‘private number’ looked ominous. The receiver expressed surprise in those eyes. Years mend the wound of their pains; still the scars of love remained intact. Seven months and a little more, she couldn’t help calling him again. Happily married in the eyes of her loved ones, some thoughts always lend his face for solace. Strained images of the past appeared like the ghosts of the living. She wept at her loss. Love was all what she sought and love was all what he offered. The life in her stood witness to all the coincidences.

The breeze silted through the curtains. Her face expressed an inexplicable serenity. Reclining in her armchair with a glass of her favorite rosé milk she remembered the chronology of a tattered past. The first ‘Hi’ and with it a torrent of ‘who’, ‘what’ and where’s. Her replies were laced with a sense of insecurity and intimacy. Some truths and half truths. She never liked to lie, at least to him. The breeze blew again and she took a sip. The stained glass was rested calmly against the window sill. Her lips made a mark on the curves of the sweetened glass.

‘What did you have for lunch?’ - The question resounded. The same question that unknowingly made her soul a part of his. She always kept this question for herself. For memories to heal. For memories to hurt. No one cared her privacy nor shared her intimacy.

The breeze continued and so did her feelings. A tear wet her eyeliner and slowly flowed, kissing her cheeks and in the process lending a streak of charcoal dark to the fair cherubs. This time she didn’t care to wipe it.

“Let it be so” she decided.

“After all he too would have shed some tears” She remembered the day. Without an answer, without any notice she left. She had in fact been fooling him.

“Wasn’t she callous?” The self reflections pondered. How could she be so mean to a soul like him !! Her self poked her thoughts with needle precision. She never had been like this. A moment of uncertainty coupled with the fear to open up in front of her loved ones. But that stole her of her future. Those hazy moments, determinant of the murky days ahead. She shuddered at the smile of her spouse. Simple, sweet and lovable, yet never exuding the charm her love possessed. Her feelings never had a worth anywhere.

Another tear swelled and trailed the earlier. The tracks livened again and the drop kissed the breathing bosoms. The glass of rose milk had all those vapours decorating the exteriors. Her heart had drained a stream of guilt. A ray of light silted through the closed indoors. The wedding ring shone in the naughty visitors glance. The atmosphere felt sinister. A neck wrenching pain shifted through her nerves.

The best days of her life. The symbolic code they developed. ‘Miss you’, ‘love you’, ‘thinking of you’ depended on the number of ‘missed calls’. One, two and three in that order.

‘Mandoosey…” she teased him so for the simplicity he possessed. He instead greeted it with a lovely laughter attached. The giggle of his had always been contagious. She not only had her breath out, but had to beg him to stop joking. His gift of humor, she adored. The very reason why she forgot her pains with him, but somewhere trespassed being just a friend. Love germinated like the sapling that lay dormant for years inside the seed. She never knew when she felt the pain, the worries of losing him. She cared for him a lot and he knew it always.

She coughed.

“What happened dear?’ The inner self smiled, thinking of the feigning of illness for him to enquire.

“Go, see a doctor”, he continued. And she would always say a terse NO, for him to get angry and annoyed. She loved him, his anger, his love, his care and wished every second to be the small sparkle of his life.

Imprisoned in the cellars of self pity and vacuous-ness of life, his caring was a relief. The shelter. An umbrella to cover the inner soul. She knew it wouldn’t last long. The water had already started seeping in. yet, how could her selfish mind leave him for a ‘someone’ she never knew. She never understood, yet she accepted….

This is a confession. A leaf from my life. An old story, not oft repeated. It hurt, and it hurt, but I try to forget and tend to fall in love again, yet again and ever again to be taught that it is always a mistake. But it's bliss and nice a feeling. What say? ... :)

An ultimate entertainer - The answer sheet

DAM/FOC 2010

Shyam Benegal comes as the distinguished chief guest to grace the august occasion.

A plethora of gifts await him from the batch of 2010.

Mr. Benegal delivers his speech and a student gifts the luminary an assorted & amalgamated collage of some answer scripts of 2010 titled, “ANKUR: The unknown facets”

Some excerpts:

(These are original lines taken from the answer sheet of Batch 2010, Sem I Question, about ANKUR shot breakdown and analysis)

The OLD movie Ankur deals with the time of EMERGENCY, in HYDERABAD. In the final scene, we see that the dumb husband of the protagonist going to the landlord, not knowing that THE CHILD INSIDE HIS WIFE IS HIS. In the EMOTION-PACKED FIREWORKS dialogue, the audience EMPATHISES with her. In an extreme ARIAL aka SURF shot, the villagers are shown climbing up the hill. An argument erupts and then a shattering noise erupts.

VOLCANOES ALL AROUND??

Analysis: The shots in Ankur are all small shots and extremely small shots. All the shots of the BOSS whipping kistiya are small shots. The last sequence where the boy keeps looking is extremely long in nature. Also when he runs down the road is an extremely long shot and then the boy VANISHES down the path.

HOLY COW, THIS IS INDEED BULL SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!

Shilpa turns lekshmi, lekshmi turns sarawati .parvathy...and the role plays continues after every page of the answer script. Reincarnation. Indian context. Also in Ankur where Dr. Rao comes to meet… pheww… Rao in ankur?

The whole scene has a lot of cuts….So what about bruises?

The various new shots : extra long shot. Small shot. Extremely small shot.

SOME OF THOSE EXPERT COMMENTS FROM THE EVALUATOR AFTER READING THE SELECT SHOTS

Are you for real?

Hieroglyphics ?

Imagination?

Facts meets fantasy.

Dreaming?

Forgive me my lord. I did not recognize this shot.

Comedy of errors.

Eg: Miraculously disappearing kishtiya. Visibly mooved kisthiya.

The film has a lot of emotional quotient in it. EQ.. :P

Documentary ankur….

The kid is a very silent character who is unaware of the situation and later he too understands everything and throws a stone and breaking down the window pane. Phewww…

I am fainting…

Eg: doing the crime of robbering. She cries & is afraid and will not do it AGAIEN.

So in my point of view there is 6 scene or shot breakdown and the combination is one sequence.

EUREKA!!

Science fiction?

HELP!!

GOD Tussi great ho!!

PRICELESS

QUALIFIES FOR KINDERGARTEN

After striking off whatever is written the examiner asks… were u against trees?

The ultimate answer:

The four types of changing image sizes are the extreme close up, close up, medium length, long length and extreme long length.

A close shot is taken where one of the two men hold her leg and put up her saree. So we know and realize what will happen next. I.e. she is going to be raped.

The extreme close shot of the man and Shabana Azmi are taken. Now we come to know that he is raping her. The extreme close up shot shows his expression and we realize that he is putting in EFFORTS.

Clap clap clap.. Cheers to the above EFFORT.. :P

Eg; shabana Azmi’s eloped husband is afrightened.

Shot 10: His real mom is shown working with vegetables… hahhahahaha

SHYAM BENEGAL ANNOUNCES RETIREMENT, but takes the souvenir as a lesson learnt late in life. The ultimate tribute came when Benegal added new words from the answer sheets in THE POCKET OXFORD DICTIONARY.

An Aarti show

The program chart for the 24 hour TV symbi was released amidst accentuated fanfare and media glitterati

SATURDAY

0600: Wake up Tantrums

0700: Powerpuff girls

0800: Saree-bharee hein

0900: No breakfast, still running – Short story

0930: Wardrobe malfunctions

1030: A to B - The Aarti Boriya ‘Blah-blah’, yet sweet Rhymes

1130: Lemon and chilli – An AV Cookey show

1230: Bai-behan’s Sunday Canteen Adventures

1330: Padma-sana: Talk of town Kochi

1430: G-host lecturers in transit – A Ramshas performance

1530: In candid conversation: UNO JOUNRO & ASID

1630: Entertainment with Fossil Sid-kid

1700: SO-santh: The Nonstop nonsense ad show (Special Premiere)

1800: Election Overview: Mirrors and Stones

1900: Chirag – The Goldie Goblin : A cartoon show

1930: PR Raj - A Divya-bhatt chat show

2000: Salsa: Nuts never found – A documentary

2030: KAU-SHIK MIS-HRA / KAUMIS aka COMMIS – A transformation

2100: Jazz - Mine or Yours – A Fish Gill entertainment production.

2130: Bookworms: A Chennai Diary

2200: Coconaths: The Wind wane – Pollinating in all directions- A Mobile phone show

2300: Mr. Mr. JCRP- Combating Coimbatore

0000-0600: Aapka Choice - Sleep, Snore, IP, Movie etc etc etcetera

Moral of the show: At 'SIM-C' 24 hours fall short. So, DIE ANOTHER DAY.

THE TRANSFORMATION

JULY 2008.

Class 1:

Sir: Can you get me a whiteboard marker?

5 hands out of 120*2 go up.

SEPTEMBER 2008.

Sir: Can you get me a whiteboard marker?

10 hands out of 120*2 go up.

The hands remain the same till the end of the semester...

JANUARY 5th 2009.

Class 1:

Sir: Can you get me a whiteboard marker?

50 hands out of 130*2 go up.

The rest are surprised. But note it, nothing happens without a reason.

DAM it, there comes FOC.

Volunteers unlimited. The major ones occupy the centre stage, Front stage, the visible back stage; rest feed their mikes to the hungry mouths, Sentries are visible at every door arguing who will open the door and welcome the late comers. The facial expression envies the air-hostess in the Kingfisher Airlines. Cameramen galore. The curtains are drawn with full fancy; the event finally gets to a completion.

Successful, we understand. We appreciate the genuine efforts and services to the seniors. Visibility counts. Recall counts. Ultimately, no one can be blamed. Isn’t it a media institute, with kids specializing in PR and AD?

FEB 14^TH 2009.

Classes begin.

Valentine’s Day breezes past.

FEB 15^TH 2009.

Elections loom large. Some winners will be bestowed with a successful PR / AD campaign award. The cumulonimbus clouds gather. Candidates assemble in abundance. It rains. Ballot’s overflow. Every drop counts. The clouds finally give way and sunlight blesses planet earth.

Classes resume.

FEB 16^TH 2009

Sir: Can anyone get me a whiteboard marker?

2 hands out of 130*2 go up.

No one is surprised. After effects of a failed PR campaign is reflected on those glum faces - A case study.

Lessons learnt

Lots of strategies to be planned. Lots more to be learned in PR. Negative PR does work.

Visibility alone doesn’t matter. Work matters. Nitin proved it well.

BUT as expected, the regularly consistent hand from the class is chosen. He continues to work dedicatedly and sincerely, without the greed for any fruit from the tree of success. Thanks Chintu, you are the best.

Some SIMC conversations

First

Beti: (comes running from college, like in the old complain ad) Mommy, we got our 5^th self study test on Friday.

Mom: (Responds in a split second): Ohh maaa… who is the latest faculty to leave?

Beti: No, Mommy, No… This time it’s not because we don’t have a faculty. Just that he is hibernating.

Mom: Lucky for you. Just as I heard self study, I thought the last faculty also has resigned.

Beti: As if his presence would have made a difference.

Mom: means?

Beti: Momma, we have a unique system in SIMC. We pay the fees. We learn ourselves. We prepare the notes as part of an assignment. We write the exams. But finally, when it comes to evaluation, someone too competitive does it.

Mom: Poor you. Victim of another skewed system.

Second

Mom: aaj kya hua college mein

Beti: Attendance

Mom: Kal?

Beti: Attendance

Mom: So, parso bhi yahin hua tha na?

Beti: haan, lekin jordaar gaali… na… taali bhi thi… We were requested to give a standing ovation. (First time in the history of… na.. World history)

Mom: Padhai?

Beti: woh self study hein na… Thursdays ko hota hein…

Mom: Tho college mein kyon jaate ho?

Beti: Attendance

Third

SIMCly PR – A Recruitment agency

First applicant knocks

Boss: Come in

Aspirant: Good morning sir

…blah ………………blah……………………blah…………

Boss: Ohh….so you are Mr. Aalsi Dhokla.

Aspirant: Yes Sir

Boss: You will head our PR, Operations

Second girl enters

Boss: ohh.. So you are Ms. Moti Thepla

Girl: yes sir

Boss: So, Moti ladki, you will stomach PR, Research.

Third girl comes in

Girl: I am Undhiyu Menon

Boss: Hmmm…. South West mix veg?

Girl: Pappa mallu, mamma gujju sir.

Boss: What a rhyme scheme. Get married to Aalsi Dhokla. You can behead PR, Operations.

Mere PyaRe PR club waalon, Narmada Bachao!!!! (Na, Na, Not from SIMC, it’s a MODI-fied river... )

No scope. It's the same suffering there. Poor Richie Rich. Sandwiched between Dhoklas, Theplas & Undhiyus. ;)

THE INTERVIEW WINDS UP.

Midhun's Journey to Space

Midhun is invited by the ARC of SIMC 2020 to be awarded the winner of the Alumni Hunt 2019.

It’s from a new campus where Midhun receives the award and is requested to speak. Here he goes.

Midhun

Thank you friends. When I was in SIMC, it was just “20000 leagues under the sea” and we had a submarine taking 45 minutes from the beachside. Today, in this virgin campus, where the “Time machine” stands testimony to the modern amenities like flying saucers, floating classes, crater creativity and stability exercises, I float. Though outsiders have to swim for hours together, err… float to reach this enchanting airless destination called 'once in a Blue-Moon', it's an experience. I welcome the Marsian’s and Venusian’s who have taken admission to this cyber space.

The evolution is truly cyber. You not just can interact with the computer, but the computers can speak to themselves today.

Mr. ABC interrupts in between.

We are exploring the chances of providing UG courses underwater too, so that industry can be in sync with planet Pluto. When we were underwater and when I was serving my 13^th stint as the compass, we had a campus spanning 123445544 SQUARE FEET and all web footed students along with litres and litres of brine. Now when am serving the 123^rd time, we have the entire space with only SQUARE FEET and no place to stand as we float...(Please all of you laugh, else.... ). With facilities like asteroids and meteors for recreation, and crater making as an integral part of the course, our students play and learn the tricks of the trade.
An announcement is that, every alumni we met on the road to Pluto has bestowed us the INFACT LIES LIES magazine award, for the best advertising footprint forward, specially because of the lack of an HOD, leave alone a teacher.

We plan to bring and admit the plutonians to our campus in the coming year to make this Pest-O-Calm bigger............. and the speech goes on and on like the limitless outer space...

(Someone snatches the mike)

Midhun continues… Truly... truly, today we need to remember all the directors who served SIMC, which is easy as ABC served it 116 times.

A commotion is heard. The guy who snatched the mike stands up and asks.

Student: What is ABC?

Answer: Basically letters, but just too vast to be explained in 3 letters.

A fed up Midhun gets late and shouts: Where is my rocket?

(Fires it from behind and flies away)

Smoke swirls leave a message behind: Escaping ABC a second time after 2010.

NB: Overall , I salute the batch of 2009 for pulling off a great show each in DAM, HR SUMMIT, COMBAT TERRORISM & FEST-O-COMM.