kinshuk sunilit aint no, dessert if therez no caek

I am looking for a decent collabware that supports intuitive task management, project management, document management and knowledge-base management plus some aspects of social networking for internal employees, specifically for a small business or a startup. So, I have done a brief preliminary research and highlighted the following products for a quick peek, and then will make an informed choice. The list includes:

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Radio cackle. Static.

This is a most unpleasant sound I have ever heard in my life. Of this, I am sure. As I sat in that railway compartment, the train rattling and lurching to its destination, with an eerie quiet, I was subject to the very same noise again and again. And as I have stated my opinion about it, neither the circumstances nor the sound, helped improve it. And since I could do nothing else, I sat idly looking at every other face in the compartment. The train perhaps could do nothing else, just like me, and so it kept rattling towards its destination.

There was an apprehension on every face. Well, not every, but most. Anxious faces. The train was chugging on and the destination was fast approaching. The passengers, idle, swayed with the train.

Radio cackle. Again.

I have noted my opinion about this sound above, but it doesn’t hurt to state it again. I Do Not Like This Sound. But I can’t help hearing it, as the owner of the device is sitting next to me. And, now I try to shift my attention to some other thing. But I end up with the anxious faces. And it is scary. They all must have been warned about the skirmish that would ensue, just as I had been warned. But what is life but a series of such skirmishes. I would be stepping into this new battlefield for the first time. And honestly, I never hoped that I will make it to here. In fact, I wasn’t sure myself whether I wanted to be here today. But here I was! Perhaps, there was no other place more suitable for me. Maybe not.

Time has a peculiar sense, the moment it should rush to an end; it slows down to a trickle and takes infinitely long to end. Thus, I must subject you to my thoughts. For us both don’t have anything better to do. At least for the while. Or so, I presume. And so as I recount my thoughts over pages, only seconds had passed.

Radio cackle, but followed by a message this time.
“Station at approach. Clear the Train at Stop.”
The attendant, next to me, stirred to life.

Behold enemy territory. Here we come.

The PAS now boomed to life. It was now being announced to everyone on the train that only a few second’s wait is remaining. The train has almost reached the station.

“…The doors will open on the left. Please mind the gap…”

And so it decreed. Instinctively, my hands reached for my pocket where, hidden from general viewing was a map. I drew out the map with my stop marked on it. In this big maze of the modern world, you always need every possible help to reach your destination on time. Time was, indeed, the most crucial thing. And I, also, had a pride issue. I’d rather refer to a map than ask for directions.

With the announcement over the PAS, many faces tautened and came back from a reverie. These were mostly young people. And I am quite sure they felt the same like me – they were here for the first time and perhaps unsure, just like me, if they really wanted to be here. But don’t mistake their apprehension for fear – a gloomy expression. It was not a fear of dark or of death. It was an expression of the uncertainty awaiting them. But let the reader beware, every uncertainty comes bundled with adventure, and adventure, as it is said – is a flighty temptress.

The destination, now, is just a few seconds away. The few security personnel in the compartment, held their strategic positions overseeing the whole train. They had, after all, a mean job to perform. It was not easy. And even though, as they positioned themselves, the platform came into view.

Many of the passengers were already standing, all set to alight. Prepared, young people, with dreams in their eyes. This day marked a new beginning in their lives. They had just left behind, what was a big stage of their lives. They were no mere conscripts now. Most of them were veterans. I, too, was supposedly a veteran. A veteran of the worlds.

With a slight jerk the train stopped. The passengers swayed one final time and then came to rest. Inertia, how it plays with us! The door bells chimed and the doors pressed open with a slight swish. Drafts of air came in to the compartment as we all alighted. I hardly knew anyone and so I started making my way to the escalators.

This was the Vishwa Vidyalaya stop of the Delhi Metro Railway System.

I made my way to the concourse and then another escalator brought me to the exit booths, where I displayed my prepaid card; an amount of eleven rupees was deducted from the card as charges for the distance traveled and I was allowed to pass.

As I had traveled with Delhi Metro earlier too, I was pretty well acquainted with these procedures. However, no practice and no warning, nor advice could have prepared me for what came next. As I exited the station and started on my way towards the college, there was a long ling of rickshaw-pullers, each yelling energetically to attract customers and make them buy their services.

“Sahib, Where to?”
“Where to?”
“Come to me!”
“Yes, where to?”

And numerous similar cries rent the air. And then there were quibbles over queue. If any rickshaw-wallah dared to take customers out of turn, which was a common sight, the others would abuse him and curse him. Similar fate came to the rickshaw-wallah who brought his rickshaw in the way of another.

I had made up my mind not to take a rickshaw as it was sheer wastage of money and walk my way to college, but that never meant I couldn’t be intimidated by this sight. Edging along, I made my way and soon was well past the rickshaw stand. I took out the pocket map once more, looked for Shri Ram College of Commerce (SRCC), for that was my final destination. I had enrolled into the new Post Graduate Diploma in Global Business Operations, GBO for short, program at SRCC. This program was equivalent to an MBA; the diploma awarded by the University of Delhi and hence, got me all excited.

I was finally doing an MBA, that too, from SRCC – the number one college for commercial studies in whole Asia. Things never get better than this. Well, they might.

After locating the college in the map and establishing the path I should take, I set off. North Campus of the University of Delhi, or for that matter any campus or college of the university, is a unique experience in itself. This I realized in that particular walk. I had done my graduation from the Indraprastha University and only heard tales of the DU life. But today, I started living that life.

Walking with me was an assortment of young people – young boys and girls, from all wakes of life. Everything from their attitude, expressions, values, and clothing differed so much that I felt as if in a zoo of humanity. A zoo, indeed. For it was not only awe-inspiring, the magnitude, but also humorous. For westernization was at its prime display. Companies such as Nike, Adidas, Levi’s and Pepe accrued so much cost for advertising and the effect was quite evident. Every student was a living advertisement here. Of this, I have no doubt.

It took me about ten minutes to walk through that human traffic, including some vehicular traffic too, and finally reach my college. The first gate was locked. The second gate was partially open and a very intimidating fellow was sitting on a chair propped next to the gate.

“Yes?” he commanded in an official voice.
“I am a student!”
“Show your I-card!”
“I am a new student, haven’t got an I-Card made yet.”
“Then, you must have some fee slip.”
“Yes, yes. Just a second.”

And I fumbled within my pockets and my bag to find my fee slip, a proof that I had paid my fees. But it was not to be found since I had forgotten to carry it. I am awfully forgetful.

“I don’t seem to have brought it.”
“Then how come should I let you enter?” his voice was genuine, not scruff.
“Wait! I think I have a letter from the college.”

And this I did have, which I promptly showed to him. He was also satisfied of my genuinety.

“Its not that you always need your I-Card to enter, but we have to ensure it at the start of term. Part of duty!”

What he actually wanted to say was that he was sorry to bother students, but he couldn’t help it.

This was the first day so I had to be extra cautious. The university had disallowed ragging in any form, but whoever listened to rules. I was extremely worried, for owing to my personality, even an undergrad student, could rag me considering me a futcha – the DU word for a fresher.

And I didn’t know where my classes were scheduled to occur. And, I didn’t fancy asking some other student. So, I retraced my steps back and came to the gate again.

“Where do the GBO classes occur?” I asked the gateman.
“Room number 12, first floor, left wing; Take the steps on that corridor, it will take you straightaway to the GBO wing.”

He referred to the left bastion. And, I followed the instructions to every syllable.

The college building is a beautiful building. The main façade is curving in an arch shape with two bastions at both the ends. These two bastions contain two corridors in themselves while the arc has a running corridor along it. In the center of the arc is the college auditorium – a big hall, seating at least 500 people. Besides the two bastions were to blocks that looked more like annexes. The right bastion’s corridor led to the college library, though I am unsure of what was in its annex-like structure. The left bastion’s corridor included some classrooms, the campus photocopier and the way to the Computer Center, the college computer lab. The main arc included the principal’s office, the staff room and the committee room, other than some more classrooms.

Behind this main building was the college hostel’s. Next to which, was the canteen with the New Seminar Room and the Girls Common Room. It was, here, in the New Seminar Room that my orientation program for the course was held two days back. Next to the Hostel’s was the Irfan’s Tea Shop, which was a common hub for important student’s discussion. Beyond which, were the college gardens.

But don’t let the reader get confused. I didn’t know so much about the college geography the moment I set my feet in the campus; it was only after some time that I learned the whole geography, and it included some very well guided tours too.

As I entered the GBO wing, my first reaction was disappointment. It looked just like a regular class room, nothing special. Perhaps, it was wrong on my part to assume a better shape. It was just nine in the morning and expecting that students would have started trickling would have been being optimistic beyond stupidity. I was not. So I just picked a seat for myself in the class, left my bag there and walked out to the corridor and made my self comfortable on the corridor wall that was built as windows, only there were no windows.

And I consoled myself, for the view was splendid. If I had expected anything, all my
expectations were being broken quite cruelly. It was just a normal college, nothing special.

A boy started walking in the wing, and going by looks of him, I just met my first classmate.

“Excuse me! Is this the GBO classroom?” He asked.
“Yes.”
“Thank You.”

He went inside the classroom to do the necessary rituals. He was smarter; he also switched on the lights, fans and the air conditioner. These air conditioners were a new fixture, specifically for the GBO students – to give them a better ambiance. And then he preferred to walk outside and provide me some unwarranted company.

“My name is Shekhar. What is yours?”
“Rohit. Commerce background?”
“Yes. B Com (H) from Hansraj. You?”
“BBA from IP University. BBA(CAM) to be precise. It was basically a mixture of BBA and BCA.”

He nodded as if he understood too well. He didn’t look bad – a round face, with disheveled dark brown hair, a bit long though, a crooked nose, heavy features. He had thick brows and very lively eyes. If I had been a liberal, I would have called him smart. But I was not, and only god knew why, I did not want to converse with him.

What followed, hence, was a quiet. We, both, were adjusting to each others presence, but the fact was, we both would have prepared to be rather alone than in company. Sometimes, things are so very strange.

But it didn’t stay strange for long for a group of three people walked in, now – two girls and a boy. I had made acquaintances with them on the orientation day.

Aditya Gupta looked cute. Short curly hair, dark brown eyes and a constant pleasant smile bundled with his sense of humor made him quite affable.
Neha Garg was a bit tall, a round, pleasant face with a small pony bobbing behind her, a very cute smile and lively, mischievous eyes. Her whole texture was kiddish and she behaved like one too most of the time. I realized I had taken a liking for her. Just two days and a crush! Preposterous, I say.

Ranjana Singh was a heavy girl. Tall and elegant. Something about her, though, felt unreal. She had a very sweet voice and some really polished manners. The first time I had met her, I had made a mental note that I would never want to cross this girl. The opinion hadn’t changed in these two days.

This group didn’t enter the class first. We had our set of welcomes and general discussion ensued. Soon, more students trickled in.

At the proper hour for the class, the professor walked in to. I shall talk about him in greater detail later. However, I cannot stop but say that he is an expert – in making students sleep. His name is Prem Khurana. A very experienced Economics teacher; it soon became common knowledge amongst students that he has been making generations sleep at this very college.

After his very ‘happening’ class, we had a Mathematics class. I shall discuss this professor later, where he shall get ample limelight for I want to rush on to the next class, which was scheduled after a half-hour lunch.

The lunch was uneventful, mostly because I was trying to avoid any company. I don’t know why, but I just didn’t feel like mingling with strangers. Not one of my day’s maybe. But for the sake of convenience of my readers, I must confess, I am strange, very strange.

After lunch, we had the Marketing class. I was expecting an old professor, just like the other two professors to come and drone about marketing theory. But the person who came to take the class was a young man – zestful and full of energy. In his thirties, this man was smart, smartly dressed and he walked with confidence. I took a liking for him the very instant. And then I remembered that he was present at the time of the orientation.

So much, so more.

His name was Ajit Kumar. What followed was a very interesting class. We did not waste time discussing marketing theory, but we discussed practical marketing and in way we also discussed the theory. The class was very interesting and at the end of it he declared assignments.

Assignments! On the first day!

I had never heard of this concept and certainly the other students hadn’t done the same for their faces said so. And so e noted down the assignment set for us – fifteen questions on marketing history. Not tough, at least it didn’t sound so.

And thus, officially ended the first day of college.