YES I HAVE BEEN RAGGED.

(As i'm struggling through my Final semester of Architecture battling depression and anxiety i would like to dedicate this article to my seniors(11-16 batch) who have been a big help in catalyzing my problems and my classmate who have been constantly trying to get me more 'Involved' with the class. )

-By Chitra

Near every entry of TKM, there is a board describing "ragging" and every time i walk past that flux board, i look at it and think to myself yes, I've been ragged.

I dont know the political accuracy of this post and I dont know if it going to insult or put someone's reputation in jeopardy ; frankly, I dont care. So what has happened to Chitra? She got ragged? Did she get beaten up? No. Then what is this ragging she is talking about?


College first years are protected by the colleges and departments alike and under all this protection, the only  ragging activity conducted was the usual seniors calling us up to give them treats.  I refused to give them treats because this is my first ever year away from home in a hostel and i was in the initial stages of handling money and i was in no mood to spend.

So after successfully avoiding getting ragged much in the first year, I confidently made my way up to 2nd year. Maybe not very confidently because this is the point where I started wondering if architecture was a wrong choice for me. I didn't like anything about this course. I was falling back in the class. I was slipping into depression. But I would have managed alright and completed the course in peace, but that's not what happened.

Cardex : This is the first name name under which ragging hid in the department of architecture.

This is an opportunity given to the third year girls to rag second year girls in the name of making products for the architecture stall for tech fest. Products being jewellery, decorative pieces etc.

Meetings were held every week to critically analyse our products and were rejected as per the mercy of the so called seniors. Criticisms, rejections, belittling another person were the major highlights of these meetings. This was when i was battling what were the initial stages of my depression.

 I was having trouble keeping up with the academics. I was torn inside wondering whether I should drop out or not. This was when cardex submissions got to me. I couldn't make anything. I froze everytime I thought of making products.  Seniors made it a habit to use the cardex meetings as an opportunity to pick on me. they hated the way dressed, tied my hair, carried around my pouch. They made it a habit to shower down on me all their comments and their opinions. They gave me orders on how to dress how to walk and how to talk. We used to stand up when seniors used to come. not out of respect, but out of fear. I dont know why we had to fear some people who were a year older. I felt suffocated. So I started skipping meetings. I stopped avoiding this toxic environment. It was only bringing me down. Skipping the meetings were seen as the most horrible kind of sin. And I was summoned by the seniors for the next meeting.

I felt a lot of stress as I wasn't in a good place inside my head. This is when my health took a turn for the worse.Then came the medicines. For some time i blamed my medications for the mood swings, but now that i think about, i think it was just my depression that was eating my brain. Cardex supporter roommates just added more to that package.It wasn't just them most my classmates were okay with it. The seniors and their glorified ragging fest called cardex.

Submissions were scheduled for products and I always failed to meet the quality and the quantity they wanted. So I stopped going for meeting once and for all. Because I was starting to have suicidal ideations and I knew this wasn't working out well for me.

Coordinator and assistant coordinator of cardex disapproved of my behavior.They held a special cardex meeting and I was summoned. The topic of interest being "why Chitra can't make products" the mockery, belittlement,insult i don't remember what they said, I only remember what I felt. Every single word was swallowed by the monster in my head, and It ate away my brain cells, my happiness and my health. I only remember saying one word "OK" and then all hell broke loose... The next couple of weeks were followed by phone calls here and there. "did Chitra files complaint against ragging? " "she doesn't know what she is dealing with" "how dare she" "she will get a payback" I was floating. I was crying, the only thing I wanted to was to seize existing. 

My ok was to quitting cardex. But I failed to realize that was my och to loosing my friends, my position in class.

I was isolated by my classmates and my roommates alike,they were scared. Too scared to support me. I always wanted to be alone, but not this alone. I felt like killing myself.

There isn't any messenger of god in this story that saved me from my depression. There was only me, the little girl who sat in a corner and got sicker and sicker and more depressed and more depressed until cardex got over.

I guess they let me be after that day, after they heard I was filing a ragging complaint against the seniors. It was a false news. I guess should have complained back then. Against all of them.

You see the main trick to execute is to make the person being ragged believe they deserve what they are getting, and make them believe they are not being ragged.

Days went by.

I was outcast from the class.

Then came LIK, a trophy work.trophy mean a "competition" and it is the seniors that make us do the sheets for these competitions. The seniors again  were in charge of making us do LIK. It was a trophy were all sheets were done manually. This means countless hours on top of a drafting board.
One thing our teachers always did was to pretend that no one is working for NASA. (nasa is the organisation that conducts such competitions.) but its a silent rule that Second year students of architecture department were the ones who would do sheets for LIK. Under the guidance of seniors.


And these were the unwritten rules that were told to us by our seniors.

If you are a junior, you are pathetic by default.

Trophy works shall be dealt with at most secrecy

You are wrong until the seniors say so

Going home is for the week.

You should be Bitter, Critical and Under no circumstances should appreciate the juniors- that could make the slack off

Everyone should attend LIK meetings and everyone should listen to uni-directional
Dictator talk by seniors every day till the sheets are sent.

Seniors have the last say in everything, from information to composition of sheets.

Sheets will be torn up and spit at and burnt by.

No one should stand up for themselves.

You cannot quit.

Somehow along the way I have regained strength enough to fight for my acceptance so I started working in LIK.

This is when I saw drama like this in real life. This time the guys of their class were involved too...

I still remember all the torn sheets, the bruised ego, the mockery, blackmail statements, harassment.I Still remember the  the loud cries I made after coming back to my room, the cursing, how fast my heart was beating and how helpless I felt. And I wanted to die again. Seize existing or kill one or two of the seniors. I wasn't allowed to speak out.

I regret every single apology I made to a senior for being me, for being passionate and sensible. I never meant a single apology. And I still hate you all, and I hope all those who got my apology, I hope you all go to hell for all the things you have put me through. 

I actually wanted to kill myself back then. My question is, will you be able to forgive yourself if I had killed myself? Maybe my depression exaggerated my fall but that doesn't make it alright to push a person further down into depression.

Everyone is different. You don't know their journey. A bad word from your mouth is probably the last nail in someone's coffin. So stop ✋ 

Yes. I was ragged. Harassed. I was insulted, I was put under a lot of pressure, stress and I wanted to kill myself. I resent my seniors.

Yes I've been ragged, and I'd never want to feel the way I felt back then.  So please TKM Architecture department, stop glorifying ragging. And start taking it seriously. Never do what you did to me to another person. They may not survive it. And you'll have to carry the  pain of killing a person in your heart.

Hurdles of Excellence

(Written By : Chitra)

From birth, one is asked to aspire for excellence, and nothing else. Maybe that is why when you are in your late teens and nearing the point of choosing a degree, you end up feeling puzzled. 'What am I excellent at?' 'What is my calling?' 'Where do i belong?' 

So you end up picking a professional course because normal college majors are mediocre. And you find yourself sitting in the orientation program for architecture, aspiring for excellence, with a picture in your head that depicts you standing in a podium accepting the best Young Architect of the year award; because, that is excellence. That is what you are conditioned to aspire for.

However the one thing they forgot to mention was that, not everyone can be excellent at everything.

So in your head, you are winning the Pritzker price or receiving the RIBA gold medal, but in life you always fall a few steps short of being the best. The hurdles always seem a bit too high.

Since you have always been taught to strive for being excellent, you just cannot handle being not enough.

Why aren’t you the best ‘ student architect’ in the class ?

Then you start feeling a lot of emotions; from anger and frustration, to feelings of worthlessness and incompetence, to transferring blame to whoever is around you, and hating the people who are jumping the hurdle you set for yourself. Then the cycle slowly changes to self-blame and self-accusation. Then absolute depression sets in. and before you know it, you are tumbling down into an abyss of darkness, and there, you will be sitting in the darkest corner unable to love yourself.

The world is so busy teaching us to be excellent, it often forgets to teach us the important things in life; simple things like happiness and self-love.

What are your pre-set ideas of excellence, if your soul is not at peace? What is excellence if you are not able to go to sleep without regrets? What is your life for, if you are not in complete sync with your vibrations?

So when you are mediocre and struggling, here are a few points to keep in mind.

Be your own best friend; after all, no one can crack you up when you are down and no one can keep you grounded like yourself.

Keep in mind that, you don't have to pretend to be anything you are not.

Excellence is relative, and the pursuit of something so variable isn't actually the best thing you can do with your life.

Take it slow. Take a deep breath and stop running. You might see and learn a lot more when you walk, than when you run.

Don't weigh yourself against the scale of someone else's achievements. They are not you, and your priorities are different.

Try to see whatever you do as an opportunity to learn and not as a test to examine your competence. After all, there is no harm in learning a thing or two.

And at last, realize that the only person you can try to better than, is yourself. So grow a bit every day and keep making progress at your own pace.

The moral of all this ranting being, in a world that constantly asks you to strive to be excellent, it’s hard to unlearn and relearn the goals you’re expected to live up to. But once you unlearn and relearn those basics, no-one will be able to beat you at being an excellent version of yourself.

And my dears’, if that's not excellence, what else is?

THE FABLE OF A BICYCLE QUEEN

(Written By, Suhaila )

I saw my heart brimming with joy when I got selected to do my internship at an architectural firm in Cochin. Overwhelmed to live amidst a lively city like Cochin, I was eagerly looking forward for the internship to get started. 

                 

City life was something I always wanted to have, for I believe even the setting sun amidst the city lights is a beautiful scene to enjoy. As the internship is a 'break' from the regular architecture course, I decided to make the most out of it. A bucketful of activities were put on the list, like sight-seeing, yoga classes, rediscovering of long lost hobbies and much more.

It is then the opportunity to revive my cycling thrills dawned on me as my accommodation place  and my office are only a few meters apart, which is more of a cycling distance than a walking distance. I began owning a brand new ladybird bicycle the very same day I reached the city. My heart raced and I flushed with joy when I peddled my new bicycle for the first time.

The wind blew  all over me when the wheels of my bicycle starts speeding.I had every reason to be nostalgic. It reminded me of my childhood days when I was the 'bicycle princess' of my village. There wasn’t a single place left in my village where this princess and her bicycle didn’t reach. But things have changed a lot when it comes to cycling in a 'to-be-metro' city.

Let me elicit  a few pieces of my thought  which makes my nose out of joint while enjoying the eco-friendly, self-efficient mode of transport and I would like to convey these to all the road users .

One, I hold true knowledge about  myself that I was not being insane or juvenile  when I use this zero-fuel vehicle at this point of my life.

Two, age, gender, religion or profession has nothing to do with the mode of transport you use and hence no laurels in the means of staring or prejudices are required for a 21-year old hijabi-architect on a bicycle.

Three, riding a bicycle on heavy/non heavy traffic roads does not imply that I failed driving tests and has a blind spot towards ' traffic etiquette' like most of the road users. So all my dear engine -enabled drivers, I hereby request to stop acknowledging me with your beautiful staccato horns and let’s hold hands in reducing noise pollution.

Four, bicycles too require a small portion the road surface to ride on like every other vehicle. I apologies for my inability to pretend to be invisible while on the road or spread my wings and fly over the potholes or the open drainage canals and make way for everyone.

I think all other cyclists on Indian roads experiences 'the excerpts of my thought' in one kind or the other. I don’t want to call them issues or racial discrimination to the cyclist section. I would rather be happy thinking to myself about how healthy it is to ride a bicycle and burn out all the unwanted calories and how proud would be our Prime Minister about me as I tried to lend a hand in reducing fuel usage and environmental pollution in India.

(Admin's note : A special apology to Suhaila for taking so much time in updating this article. PS : HAPPY BIRTHDAY!  )

STORY OF AN ARRANGED MARRIAGE

MY MARRIAGE TO ARCHITECTURE #3
(Admin's note : Third article of a series of articles on the same topic)

(Written By Chitra V)

THE DECISION

It was the year 2011. I had completed my 12^th standard board ex­ams and was awaiting the results.  And I had my eyes on this young man, Animation. Since I didn’t want to be an engineer or a doctor, I decided  to tell my parents about him.

                    

My parents weren’t exactly pleased by  my choice  as they thought Architecture would be a better groom for me. So my father advised me not to rush the decision and  take a year off  to think it through. The condition was that, If I still do not have a clear cut decision by the end of 2012, I were to  prepare myself for an alliance with Architecture.

                   

 

I went out with Animation quite a lot in my one year off. He was different than I had expected but very lovable nevertheless. We got to know each other quite a lot  and just like that one whole year passed by, in the blink of an eye. 

Me and animation had become the best of friends but I wasn’t in Love. So I convinced myself that it was not meant to be and agreed to go with my parents decision and I prepared myself for an arranged marriage with Architecture.
 

And that is how me and Architecture exchanged rings and took vows.

THE MARRIAGE

Architecture was Sophisticated, Charming and Intelligent and like all intelligent men, he was a lot of work. As time passed by he became more and more demanding and got me into thinking this marriage was a really bad decision. Everything was always about him! I didn’t have time for myself anymore.

THE NEW FAMILY 

                

I woke up every morning, to please his family. Back to back submissions, presentation sheets, trophy works, manual drafting, all nighters, I worked hard to make a good impression, but the critical reviews just took a piece out of me every time i went through one. But nothing I would do could please them. They were high maintenance and not easily pleased. Eventually I got so lost trying to please them that I started forgetting about myself. 

Architecture never stood up for me and that’s when I started thinking, holding on to this marriage was just not worth my time. It had been 3 semesters already and I was worried about the options a divorce would leave me with.

              

I complained a lot and Cried a lot to my parents. I went home whenever I could. I guess I was hoping to get reassurance and a reason to hold on. That’s when my father said “All marriages are difficult, And require adjustments “ and I felt bad, really bad! Now even my parents are not getting what I’m going through. As my complaining kept going on and on, they got fed up. They told me I could do anything that I wanted!  Get a divorce if that’s what I’m trying to tell them.

               

And yet again the final decision was left to me. At times I was proud to be married to architecture. But is that enough reason to hold on? I don’t know what we had and what we will have. Everyone said we made a wonderful couple. But putting up with his family was unbearable to little insecure me. I was indecisive and broken and under appreciated.

Time passed by and after four long semesters, I finally decided to take this marriage on my pace. I stopped trying to please everyone, I stopped trying to be perfect, I stopped being so hard on myself. As I started appreciating myself instead of seeking validation from his family, I started feeling a whole lot better. I found my peace one step at a time and I learned how to be happy.  

                  

Two more semesters passed by, 3 years of marriage!

I’m still as confused, unsure and indecisive as I was. But now, a tad bit more hopeful that maybe when I wake up tomorrow, I would realise that I have always been in love with architecture. 

Still Waiting for my platinum day of Love.

Chitra

HOW A YOUNG ARCHITECT-IN-THE-MAKING WAS SUBJECTED TO BRUTALISM IN OFFICE! ( PUN INTENDED)

(Written by Ridha )

Three years of architecture is over and we head out for doing our half a year long internship. When I came to office I had mixed feelings. My distant relative recommended me to this enormous firm called QDC in Qatar.

Leaving my comfort zone among my seasoned friends was not easy. I have been studying without my parents being around for some time. So going to stay in Qatar practically surrounded at all times by not only my parents but a bunch of relatives( they live in the same building ) was certainly a whole new experience for me.

Another surprise was Qatar. I knew middle east would be hot, but I didn’t know it could be “go outside and die of a heatstroke” hot!

I came during Ramadan time, when the heat is at its peak. That did not help. How do I put this? The heat here at night can be compared to what Keralites would experience in a fine hot afternoon in, lets say, Palakkad.. My parents tried to give me solace, “This is nothing! The weather is going to turn in a few months and it's going to be so cold you would want to run away from this place altogether. The A.C is not going to help you then”. How nice. Something to look forward to. 

Office wasn't very pleasant in the first few days because, as it turned out, I was assigned in a team headed by our Design head, Pradeesh, which didn't have any other interns. Don't think there weren’t any interns in QDC. In fact my relative told me there were about 25 of them here assigned in the many different teams that work here. The only bright side to my office days then was that the particular team I was assigned to was responsible for doing the Al-Bayt stadium for FIFA World cup( check it out on Archdaily!) ,

which was considered the most important one after Zaha Hadid's Al Khor stadium, not that I got to do much designing, in fact the only work I did which stood a chance of being translated in real life was choosing the toilet fittings in the toilets outside the stadium. So if you are planning to go see the World Cup in 2022 in Qatar and ended up coming to the Al- Bayt stadium, please do pay a visit to the toilet and appreciate my taste. If you feel mesmerized by the liquid soap coming from the automatic soap dispenser it was because I PUT IT THERE!

But aside from that my office days were quite bleak. There was only one other woman there, Ashwini maám who was just under Pradeesh. Everyone else excluding two young architects were draftsmen, and most of them malayalis, but that was no solace to me. They told me that there was a high chance that a new intern would come soon. I was joined by Atia later. A student from Ranchi who was actually a Bihari but we didn’t do much talking. Then one fine day, god answered my prayers and there came my dear friend, Jayanth Vadyala! 

He was friendly and we got along immensely well. In fact, Jayanth was more than good company. I think he told me his Gods were F.L Wright and Corbusier on the very first day itself. He was different. He says stuff like, “ I hate eating and sleeping, because I can do more productive things with the time.” for which I would reply, with my mouth stuffed in chappathi, “I consider eating to be one of my most important pursuits in life.”

He was a potpourri of talents. He made music, did digital art, wants to write a novel, he was interested in psychology, philosophy, he even told me he wanted to be an entrepreneur one day and above all, he was inspired by architecture and was up to date in the events concerning the field. I was ecstatic to find somebody like him, at last, to pour my random architectural rantings that I have kept inside for far too long. Keeping things inside is not Ridha at all!

 So I set out to engage in my own voyage of discovery. Enough inspiration from Jayanth! Time to learn about the stalwarts of architecture and be inspired from them! So I set out to foray into the world architectural scene. Hmm....so most Modernists got inspired from Corbusier...I have learned all about Modernism and Post modernism and such from college, I know about old man Corbusier too..What did Corbusier do that they were so inspired? He has set benchmarks in urban planning, has formulated the five principles, and his works like the Ronchamp chapel and Villa Savoye has won critical acclaim.

I checked out Villa Savoye and Ronchamp chapel on google once more, I have sketched it for my history exams, and I have actually presented a case study of the Ronchamp in class. I browsed through the pictures again. One look at Villa Savoye and I was like, bleh. The stark white almost monochrome building stood out from the surroundings. I like buildings that had a connection with the surroundings. I felt the Villa Savoye and Ronchamp chapel did not have that. They stood up more like a monolithic ode to human technological advancement of that time. The truth was, I never really liked Villa Savoye. I was reading through it and suddenly Pradeesh is behind me. “What are you doing, Ridha?” he asks me.

I was feeling quite inspired and satisfied with myself because I was getting to know architecture in my spare time rather than browse about cats or something. He should be proud to have an enlightened student like me on board. Or so I thought.

“I am browsing about Corbusier, sir, I am trying to understand why so many people are inspired by him. Do you like modernism,sir?”. Stupid move, Ridha. My enlightened, giddy self did not realize I made a mistake saying that to the Design head. He replied “How many years you have been studying architecture, three? You still don’t know the reason? So you are reading about Corbusier, eh? You like him?”

I was burning with embarrassment so I went on to the next level of stupidity. I blurted out sheepishly “ Hehe, no, sir”. It felt like that scene in 90's Hindi movies where the heroine goes to the temple and denounces God in front of the idol of Goddess Lakshmy(usually because her true love was killed unfairly). Bells were tolling, conch was blowing or the equivalent of that in my office. Pradeesh sat down on the chair oppsosite to me.

Jayanth went stiff in his chair. The malayali draftsmen, wondered what was going on. The young busy body architects that worked under Pradeesh on the other side of the room, stopped their hurried clicking for a moment and listened before resuming with their work. “Why do you think so?” asked Pradeesh, what ensued could be related to a person falling in front of a bunch of people and acting as if he was actually performing a dance move. Something that started as a casual opinion turned into a debate, with its own audience glancing at us from time to time while working in front of their computers.

Even if I didn’t know a whole lot about architecture, I knew the English language. So I tried to make my point by using sentences like, “ It's not that I disagree with Corbusier, I just don’t agree with the way his ideas manifested in his works, I like F. L Wright with his Brutalistic and organic approach to architecture, I think Corbusier's ideas were taken to the next level by his followers rather than himself”. God knows what 'Brutalistic' was and I don’t know if I got it right.

Jayanth sent me showers of what I thought was pity from his place. Atlast, Pradeesh decided to drop the subject as he had better things to do rather than terrorise amateur explorers into the world of architecture. I wanted to dig a hole and bury my head in it like an ostrich for the rest of my life. I tried to put a brave front like ' This is my opinion, I am entitled to it', inside I was cringing because they also had the right to have their opinion, which was that I was stupid.

Surprisingly, Pradeesh came back ten minutes later and said, “Ridha, I thought you were just a talker, now I know you are a thinker too”. Ehh...what just happened here? I have no clue what did the magic in him. Jayanth was still far from convinced. But the draftsmen who did not understand half of what was going on were impressed. “Wow, Pradeesh always likes people who engage him in such intellectual talks.” they said among themselves. Inside I was doing the Samba, 'Brutalism saved me! Hail Brutalism!'.

Whatever that is. This was a great blow to my architectural odyssey and I spent the rest of my free time solely browsing about cats. After all, telling someone I like Persian cats instead of British Bobtail is not going to send me into the pits of despair that I was presently in, and cats are cute so it sorta helped to get out of my misery.

I eventually got over my cat fixation, as well as my shame, and resumed with my odyssey. I still don't like Corbu's manifestation of his principles of modernism. I fell in love with the likes of Peter Zumthor, who I feel is closer towards my interpretation of architecture. Maybe later, when I learn more about this vast ocean of knowledge that is architecture, I would understand Corbu better.

Let me be your mirror

Written by Chitra

(This is dedicated to, the wonderfully crazy

and ridiculously interesting women in my life)

Sometimes when the epic workload hits and the all nighters drain me, I often forget to be happy. I forget that happiness is infact a lifestyle. Lately I've been catching myself feeling unhappy quite frequently.

two days back I decided this needs to stop. I looked back. 
What change happened in my life that caused me to become so cynical? 
What turned me into a person who needed constant validation?

You see the problem was that I've been asking myself the wrong question ! The question is not and it will never be "what is wrong with me? "

 like a philosopher once said, as long as you are alive and breathing there is more right in you than wrong. The question i should have been asking myself is "how did I get here?" Beating myself up over simple mistakes , telling myself I'm not good enough, criticizing myself. Constantly telling myself I am incapable. The mind can only take so much before it breaks down. 

Things fell into place when I decided its about time i started giving myself some credit. I remember where I took a wrong step. I had promised myself to always love myself and support myself no Matter what. It seems like I've forgotten that promise. After all, You can't hate yourself into being happy!

So here is a note to my dear girlfriends who have been my happiness and my life for the past one year...who often forgets how to love themselves...

Dear,

When was the last time you saw yourself in the right light? You've all grown so blind with self doubt that when you look into the mirror you only see disappointment ! even the most beautiful of paintings looks unimpressive under dim light. Can't you see you're seeing your self with foggy eyes?

 You hesitate so much! Why are you not letting yourself try? Why do you stop yourself when you are about to try something, and convince yourself you can't do it? Why do you blow out the fire every time it sparks inside of you?

Look at you ! So scared! So tired! When have you taken it easy on yourself? When was the last time you let go of a criticism? Do you see how much you are worth ? Do you see how much you're loved and you're needed? Why are you being so mean to yourself? You've surprised me with your talent and you have inspired me to move forward...how can a person with that kind of power think so little of themselves?

I see your talents; Your might; Your determination; Your sincerity; Your willingness to help!

So let me be your mirror. Let me show you the way I see you. Look at me and see how you reflect off on me! If only you could see yourself through my eyes! love yourself the way I love you. Believe in your self because I do.

Look at you, you are so young! We are just starting to live our lives. you can't give up on it before you even start! So let me be your mirror when your eyes are filled with tears and you can't see yourselves anymore. I'll tell you how I see you, bright and clear.

Let me be your mirror.