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Monday, February 16th, 2009 | Author:

On my way to college in the U-Special, this not-so-special girl standing next to me was talking to her friend. “Just scrap me. I’ll have a look and get back,” she said. When I reached the Rehearsal lawns, I began investigating.  From a friend, I received an invitation to Orkut along with three tips.

  • Upload an image for your profile (It should NOT reflect your image).
  • Get everybody on your friend list (Even your foes!).
  • Join a community (No immunity from communities! You’ll receive a dozen invitations every week).

This was how I entered the world of online social networking.

With all its cellphone-clicked photos, Youtube-borrowed videos and public scrapbooks, Orkut appeared glamorous. However, it was only after the experience of its usability, that I started appreciating this space.

Campus-curious freshers dug out everything they wanted to know about JP Tea Stall. The way in which the online presence of this tea stall has made it the hub of University’s pseudo-intellectuals is just amazing. A visit to its community will reveal how JP is much more than its renowned Rs3-iced tea. It has turned into a forum for protest against sexual harassment in the adjacent college. It advertises the festivals and events held in the campus. Besides, people even discuss the future of JP stall (I wonder if JP can be the next Starbucks by using the feedback).

When done with ragging, our seniors reserved their places for summer-internships through their Orkut contacts. The super-seniors were the smartest. They formed a community for every coveted PG course, six months before the entrance examination. Every piece of information about it was gathered by networking aspirants and friends who were successful the previous year.

The beautiful part of this informal exchange of information was the communication itself. The online medium of socialization can put up a cause, increase footfall at events and create a supreme sense of possession towards what we share. This is what makes it wonderful.

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Thursday, February 12th, 2009 | Author:
An open-ended journey

An open-ended journey

It is 2.25 am. I was supposed to leave for home five hours back. But these three hooligans imprisoned me in the hostel. Unless we put up a 45-minute play, we can not go to the festival in Pakistan. So, here we are – struggling to create a standard production with five nights, four days, three cigarettes, two writers and one good actor.
After quadrupling on a bike, we reach VKRV. Over paraanthas, we discuss the chains that restrict us. We have only one more person in our team, the only girl who had a passport ready. Hence, we have fewer options. We can not dream of big sets. No script in our knowledge can be performed by such a small team. A kind of frustration builds up. We start asking questions.

Who am I?

How free am I?

What am I looking for?

The search for a good script actually transforms into a more personal search. I close my eyes. Three friends in a room explore issues of identity, freedom and purpose. We are able to visualise the product in the process. I take the pen out of my pocket and get hold of a tissue paper. Our “baby” is born – ‘Kamra Khula Hai’.­

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