A lone girl with a roll pack

(Written By Asha) 

                  
This is an incident that happened to me which I would like to share with all of you. At least a few among you will be able to relate this to yourself for sure!

 I was travelling from Kollam to Shoranur in train, in fact returning home after a whole semester of frustrations, disappointments, pressure and the last jury day,that I screwed up. I stared at my roll pack stuffed with old sheets n sighed! 

My mind,my inner peace,everything was damaged to a great extent and moreover I was traveling alone. Six hours of pure joblessness.

 I have been thinking about writing an article since a few days . And so I kept myself busy. The only topics that came into my mind was my life, studies, insecurities, depressions and related crap.

 But eventually I quit thinking about it concluding that I haven’t got much to say,  differently  from what my fellow mates did. So my mode gradually shifted back from busy to joblessness again.

Well, when you are not really doing anything except staring at people and out of the window, obviously  your mind would be wandering and mine also took me places. I was thinking about everything and anything. My mind was saturated with thinking about useless stuff and I just wanted to clear everything off.

 So I started texting people, checking my newsfeeds and browsing random stuff just to keep my brain engaged.

 I was starting to feel better but then this post came out of the blue-“the ten most infamous murder cases that India ever witnessed”. Out of curiosity I followed the link and started reading. It contained 5-6 sentences about each case starting from 19^th century to the present. And four out of the ten were rape cases. All faced by lone, vulnerable women. 

Reading this dragged me back to hell. I was really disturbed and it completely  killed my partially dead, frustrated mind. I switched off my phone and continued staring out of the window. That did not actually help though. I kept thinking about the article that I read. Could not even enjoy the pleasant climate.

On top of everything there was this middle aged “uncle” who came and sat opposite to me discussing about all the problems that India is facing, with the sisters who sat near me. 

Obviously the topics  included rape cases. I felt like jumping out of the train and then may be escape to the outer space. I could not take it any longer…but by then the train reached Shoranur junction. I thanked Indian railway and stormed out of the station.

I boarded the Ottapalam bus and reached there by 7pm.My parents could not come to pick me up as my sister was in hospital.

I looked around. The bus stand was less crowded and all I could see was middle aged men with lighted cigarette in their hand and crooked-weird look on their face. 

I somehow managed to make my way through them and spotted a bus that would take me from Ottapalam to Thiruvilwamala. I enquired about the scheduled time by which the bus will reach my place to the driver, informed the same to my parents and sat down on the very first seat without even looking around.

I placed my roll pack in the space left out in my seat so as to confirm that no one would sit near me, more like a shield of protection…!

I figured out that there are at least one or two women in the bus from the distant murmuring voices. And eventually, the bus started. Again an hour of joblessness. My mind returned to the same old pastime. The only difference being that now it is now just a solid topic-lone women. I kept thinking about all the cases against women, even the ones I have vague ideas about just came into my mind.

After a few halts, I could not hear any female voices from behind me. I dared not to look back and check.

The constant thinking made me remember my own experience. This happened while I was studying in school, in 12^th.I was travelling in a private bus, from my home to school and had to kick this guy who tried to harass me. I slapped him left and right at last making the co-passengers hold me back. 

An old woman actually exclaimed-‘stop beating him!’. That was a pleasant experience now when I think about it. If I had not reacted that way, it would have been a lingering trauma in my entire lifetime. Recalling the incident I tried to sooth myself reminding me how brave I was then and that I have not lost a bit of that courage.

The bus  continued its journey through the deserted road with less number of street lights and lesser number of passengers- not even a single woman-alarmingly increasing my fear and heartbeat. I could hear giggles, and comments from behind  and I felt as though they were talking about me. Again I was afraid to look back. By this time, my heart beat skyrocketed.

Suddenly, from nowhere, a man placed his hand in my shoulder. I felt a cold wave of terror all throughout my body. I froze. In a fraction of second, I thought about all escape routes that I can take. 

the first one being beating up all of them with my roll pack(I recalled people calling it missile/AK-47 each time I carry it around, while traveling in train. Well, if people can think of it like that it can sure act like one!) or if it is a worse scenario- jumping out from the bus, well. that would kill me.

Then with all my courage, I turned back.

To my amusement, I saw this old man, with a teeth less smile holding my roll pack,(yes the shield of protection :D),and asking me-“ethu kuttydya?” ( “is it urs?”) in the very native Trissur slang. Trust me that is the most beautiful smile I had ever seen in my entire life, or I felt so.

 I could see all these doubts in his eyes, like-what is the thing that he is holding! He didn’t ask any though. I guess the roll-pack had fallen down from my seat to the backside and he picked it up for me.

By this time I was about to reach my place. I thanked him and got down.

The three things that I could conclude from this incident is-

1)The world ain’t all that bad as we think it is. There is still a considerable amount of humanity left in this world.

Keep looking for that ray of sunshine among the dark clouds, it is there somewhere for sure!

2)Whenever  you are alone or in a vulnerable state, believe in yourself. Sometimes, you are the only one who can stop you from being dragged into hell.

3) Whenever you feel that nothing is happening the way it is supposed to be, never loose hope. Hopes, aspirations and beliefs are the reasons why earth is still not vacant, it makes man live!

Would the bus ride have been this scary if I had ‘not read the article? stirring up all my old and new memories?

I wondered, as I walked towards my house.

MODEL MAKING - An illustration

By Shabnan 

MODEL MAKING!

The balancing act

                      ( Written By Divya ) 

Architecture. Where do I start? Its more of a lifestyle choice than a career pursuit. Now non-architects might protest to the statement saying their course is equally difficult. But let me stop you right there. This is not up for debate. It is an architecture blog and no one needs to get offended by this. Im sure every professional course presents with its fair share of hurdles.

                       

When my classmates and I were at the crossroads of career choice after our schooling, the options being narrowed down to engineering,engineering and engineering, owing to the obsession of  indian parents with, yes, engineering, I found myself calling up my senior Bella, who had taken up architecture.

                   

Little did I know I should have taken the words " all nighters, criticism, pressure "etc at their face value. Writing her hints off as exaggeration, I made the decision that changed my life. Yes I know I sound dramatic n cliched.

Which is how I found myself at the railway station, two years later, waiting for the train back to college, balancing a building model the size of a spread out newspaper on my left hand with a roll of sheets as big as me on my right.

Act 1

Balancing Architecture and family

Parents have always been my support system. The poor souls being biologically programmed to love and nurture their kid. Mine have been extremely understanding, but not many get the idea of how the course works.

1. No,mum. The theory subject marks do NOT matter. I just need to pass.

2. Yes. Design is VERY important. I could lose a year if i miss two design reviews.

3. Yes, I bunked class to SLEEP. Not sneak off with my friends to a movie. Blasphemy! *offended by the very possibility*

4. No, mum. I cant make time to go to Mrs.ABC's daughter's wedding. Submission due day after. *disbelief at the very suggestion*

5. yes, I have been up all night working *defensive look*

6. yes, I HAVE to come home. I had a terrible review and I need to vent. * to be taken very seriously*

Act 2

Balancing health and architecture

Are you kidding me? That's a myth. *rolls eyes*

Unless you have superhuman speed in drafting sketching n designing. 

Or a time machine,ofcourse.

Act 3

Balancing social life and architecture

Kiss your pre-architecture friends goodbye along with that cousin's kids baptism, friend's sister's engagement,  christmas celebration at your colony and pretty much all events involving people,music,food and fun.

Sorry, I have to complete sheets. Yes. Thats right. You heard me right. Sheets.
*sigh*

                       

Act 4

Balancing relationships and architecture

A minute of silent prayer for the poor soul in a relationship with the architecture student.
Amen.

Act 5

Balancing spirituality and architecture

Talk about spirituality to the folks who sleep with models. *scoffs*

Er.. Lemme rephrase.

When you hit the sheets at 4:00am you can barely keep yourselves awake to set the alarm, much less pray. That is considering you made it to bed, given you havnt crashed on the floor alongside the model you had been working on.
Model. You know. The cardboard ones with  cute miniature walls and everything. Yeah.

Oh wait. This was the article i was supposed to keep happy and positive. Shoot.   :|

My fashion escapade

( Written By Ridha )

This is more like my personal experience than another article about the rest of archies. As i said before everybody has a wannabe phase after coming to college. But at the end of the day you find out who you are for real.

                                                                        

  The story starts when I sat one afternoon with my friends to have lunch. Recently my classmate Suhaila had started flaunting some trendy clothes. I think I was talking about that to Lakshmy, who sat next to me. That was when lakshmy, known for her insightful remarks said yet another remark.

“Ridha, all the hijabis are so fashionable. Why can’t you try something too?”

(Hijabis are those who drape a shawl around their heads and pin it, known as a hijab)

                That statement meant two things.

1)  I am not fashionable, besides being a hijabi.

2)  It’s high time I started being fashionable.

I should say I cringed a bit inside. Man! Am I that bad?

        During my high school days, I had the habit of drawing curvy girls in pretty clothes which made everybody convince me that I can be a ‘fashion designer’.

 But I stowed my designer dreams away and decided to pursue architecture. What Lakshmy said drew my attention. I should do something and uphold the high standards set by my fellow hijabis in our class.

                   

        How do i become fashionable? I can't copy anybody. I have to do something on my own. I observed some people and came to the conclusion that most people get their fashion sense from their mothers or friends. There are some who have a natural flair for it, and some others who simply buy very costly clothes which will always have a minimum fashion value. My circle of friends were the kind of people who couldn’t relate to fashion any more than me, except Sophia who turned super religious recently, she forsakes fashion to walk around in a pardha, I didnt pick much sense from her.

My mother is just weird when it comes to fashion. I have my reasons to say that. Imagine your mother goes to Fabindia because an aunt takes her. She ends up buying a white kurti and shawl for herself and a top for her daughter. On the first day of wearing the kurti, it’s stained with red pickle. My mother tried washing it and it gets red patches besides the orange patches because she soaked it with a red cloth. Since there is nothing to do anymore, she chucked the kurti in the dark recesses of the cupboard. She draped the black shawl on top of the refrigerator. I guess she couldnt find any other shawl that would be as durable as Fabindia to drape over the fridge. Since I am a chip off the old block even weirder than my mother, I don't wear the top outside, instead I wear it inside, like a slip. I found out that Fabindia was more comfy than Jockey so I wear it inside my usual clothes. My mother didn’t care to correct me either. That’s how bad we are. Since I don’t believe in spending money to buy good fashion (because I am perpetually broke), I decided to develop a flair for it.

I took inspiration from Seba, my senior. She was one of the many people who wanted to be a designer and ended up taking architecture. But she didn’t leave her dreams midway. She picked them up from where she left them. I saw her post pictures on facebook of the designs she materialized. I took queue from her.

I drew a design that was in tune with my religious constraints, which was a culotte and top. I bought this beautiful blue cloth to materialize my design and approached tailors.

                

Tailor 1. Arjun abi

                Arjun abi’s real name is something else; this is what I call him because his true caller id happened to be this name. The guy was very confident when I explained the design, a little too confident. I was naïve so I left the shop feeling happy that I would get it next week. I was wrong. Neither did he give it next week nor two months later. But every week that devil made me come to the shop only to disappoint me.When my patience ran real thin I just went to his shop and got back the cloth.

Tailor 2. Senior citizen

                The second tailor is this old guy from Karicode. I went to him but felt I needn’t burden him with a design.

                All this time Seba posted more pictures of her designs in facebook. I wondered where she got all of them stitched. So I approached Seba herself through Watsapp with sly intentions. I struck her weakest spot, animals. I went on about how I love animals, especially cats and dogs. I think I overdid it at some points. She seemed to have been taken aback when I told her that I found some inexplicable, otherworldly wisdom in doggie’s eyes. If Seba is reading this I want her to know I totally meant that! Anyway, she revealed it to me after some time. She goes to some shop in Aluva. Mwahahaha! Perfect!

                But before my plan could attain fruitition, my mother intervened. She discarded my design mercilessly saying it doesn’t work. She took the cloth, gave it to this tailor, Mohanan, whom she likes and I hate, to make kurtis.

Tailor 3. Evil tailor Mohanan

Nothing much to say about Mohanan, except that he disappeared from town! And so did my cloth! My father tried calling him, but he wouldn’t pick up. He searched for him but no one knows where he went. At this point I thought the universe was telling me to drop my designer plans.

                As an attempt at redemption I salvaged my mother’s old clothes, including the Fabindia kurti and shawl from its lowly disposition. I wear the oversized kurti anyway, hoping the patches aren’t that visible. I don’t give a damn even if it does. I am not fashionable. Period. I am comfortable this way. I wear whatever I want. Or maybe I will do it all over again one day. Once I buy a new set of clothes. I wonder what destiny has in store for me then.

       

               

       

         

Architecture and Me

I dedicate this article for all those student architects out there, who feel like they don’t fit in, feel like they want to give up…

 ( Written By Chitra )

(Disclaimer : everything written here is my personal experience and i do not blame anyone or any event for the way i felt. So please take it in that sence! im just a girl spilling out my experience as a student Architect.)

PHASE  1

ME

I have always been ‘important’ ‘talented’ and ‘above average ‘ in school as far as I remember. But my mother begs to differ , I remember her saying she didn’t have any high hopes  for me about scoring good marks in my board exams. And inspite of  having trouble with maths I somehow managed a  9A+ grades and 1A grade.

Higher secondary School - pretty much the best years of my life.
Small School, Small Class, I was important, loved and the best part was I loved what I studied. Bio-math ! Labs and Text books , Tuitions and youth festivals, lecture notes , I was good in both curricular and extra curricular activities !

Being an Indian student, you always have this social pressure to be the best at everything you do. Being average was just not an option.
After bio math , I had infront of me, Engineering and Medicine, but I had made up my mind not to go with those options from highschool itself. It was just not my kind of buzz.

It was, after scoring 90% in 12^th and after a year of not knowing what to do, combined with a course of graphic design and animation, I attempted Nata (national aptitude test for architecture)

66^th rank in the entrance exam ! well, I must be born for this or something! I mean, there are 1000s writing this exam right ?

I was feeling pretty confident walking into my college. I had the 4^th highest rank in the class and I was feeling spectacular !

Everyone, I met there was the important person back there in their school lives. Talented , loved , creative, well appreciated and used to being the centre of attraction. It was like Nata was a test to sort out and bring together a lot of  “ that person” s’ – (that person :: people who got attention without trying. )

THE DOWNFALL

Things were going good at first but.. I don’t know, things just went downhill from there, the bigger they are the harder they fall right ? I fell from on top of mount Everest of being important to the deepest pits of being un-important.

I always went in to bad moods when I couldn’t reach the top, but deep down inside, I always felt if I try harder I could reach the very top. Maybe that’s why I felt I could be someone one day!

But now , here , getting noticed just escalated to a whole new level.
Me the friendly cheerfully  happy person , whom everyone liked at the end of the day, just turned into a mess!  Work load started piling up, loads of drawing , painting, ON-TIME submissions, a lot of COMPELLED CREATIVITY! It didn’t seem right! When I completed a piece of art I was supposed to feel good about it right ? But no I felt bad because everyone else was just that darn good!

everything just seemed so  “ not how its supposed to be! “

Then life started throwing me lemons!  At first I thought I could make lemonade but…

let me just list them out!

 1)The Codes of conduct

There where a lot of Crazy (unwritten) commandments I had to follow because I was a junior. They honestly made no sense to me. How am I supposed to react to all this ? I felt like I was from another planet! Things always got out of control as I was and am easily offended. Words always slipped my mouth at the wrongest of times!

2) The Archi fest

TheCraft festival that was supposed to be fun! I remember I was so super excited about this!
 I was the craft person back in school days right ? People envied the cute things I used to make !
My hand-made greeting cards where quite the  thing among  my friends as I recall it!
But here I couldn’t make anything…AT ALL!  I just couldn’t find the time ! And compelled creativity was just never my cup of tea! And i was really relieved when the seniors made me quit. But the toll I had to pay was a big one as my friends at that time where super unsupportive, and till this day my quitting 'the archi fest' remains a controversial issue.

3)Perks of being part of the Architectural students association

The "Trophy works" , Things that were supposed to look good on my internship portfolio the NASA,ZONASA  SSA things that were supposed to make me feel good, made me feel like I fit in!
Inspite working my ass off for LIK and ANDC, Thanks to my habit of going home everyweekend, I never got appreciated for the work I did, and I got the names “ Quitter “ and “ Undependable “.  This made an official “ Outcast” .

Nothing worked out for me! Nothing at all! At the end of the day I felt traumatised felt like a problem child. Things went terribly wrong, Friendships fell apart, I was challenged, made to compete, made to loose,  made to feel like I was worth nothing at all, I felt like a looser through and through. I felt alone, not good enough. I felt tortured.

ACADEMICS FOLLOWED….

The sleepless nights and the panic attacks after 5 am, and my work still incomplete.  Pen drafting. The torturous mechanics class after pulling an all nighter ! Flunking series !flunk an exam ? I was a freaking nerd!
No support at all in extracurricular work from teachers or the department. My singing wasn’t appreciated anymore! IS THIS HOW COLLEGE LIFE IS SUPPOSED TO BE ?

______________________________________________

PHASE  2

THE CONFUSION

           

4 semesters, 5 drop-outs and 2 year-outs later. The strength of our class stabilised. Chaos and panic slowly settled down.  Everyone changed. Completely. Groups broke up, and the vibes at the hostel  got so very different.

I changed too. My tears dried out! There was a time I cried for anything and everything.
Maybe I don’t cry anymore because I don’t care anymore! Because nothing made sense to me! No one outside of architecture gets it, no one inside architecture cares! I felt like a bad mad person!


HEALING

Then this sem-break happened. ( we only get sem breaks on even semesters )

AND  I… had nothing to do For a change! Nothing at all ! I watched tv , ate , slept, and sat there staring blankly at my bedroom wall… I didn’t do anything! A sense of calm started settling in. Its been a while since I felt this calm, this right. I , I was not as bad as I thought I was! I was good. What is this feeling? I was ok. And that’s when I felt like I want to feel like this even during working days…


You know?  We are the only people who can help ourselves. If I need happiness I will just have to be ‘Effin’ happy .Its not something we are going to achieve tomorrow, or achieve when we have a lot of money! It’s a choice we make. Then I just stopped looking for happiness  and just became HAPPY. I know its easier said than done but I did it. I got the hang of everything, My works got finished on time. I was doing well I was doing good.

I was not on top of the class I was not in the border line either. I was just there , right in the middle. But its ok, its ok to be average. Its fine. Because I felt like a winner. Because I had PEACE.

Everyone has their way of coping up with situations,

some found Boyfriends/Girlfriends
some found Religion
some found new Friends
some found Home
some found Animes/TV Serials/Cartoons /Music/Movies
some found  Personal drama
some found Mobile phones
some found Wanderlust
some found Fashion
some found Sleep
and me ? I found MYSELF.

One thing about us humans is that, we learn to survive.  I accepted the fact that Architecture is hard and I am proud of my self for holding on. I  Appreciate myself, for caring, for being strong for me through all the allnighters, through the insults, the pain, the stress, pressure and competition.

If you are a student architect, and going through a rough patch, just take a few steps back , take a deep breath , cross your arms around you and give yourself a big hug, and tell yourself  ITS OK NOT TO BE OKAY, BUT I WILL NEVER GIVE UP ON YOU… BECAUSE I AM ALL I HAVE AND I AM ENOUGH.

And I will tell you like all those songs say! YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL! You don’t have to be perfect !
Architecure is one hell of a difficult course. And no one can clear a semester by being lazy. So stop being too hard on yourself.

 Find those little things that make you happy and keep on doing them, in spite of what others say ! You are good. You will be fine. DON’T EVER GIVE UP  ON YOURSELF!
Surround yourself with people you love. Don’t try too hard pleasing anyone or try and adjust. BE YOURSELF.

HOLD ON STUDENT ARCHITECT!

(special thanks to my mother for editing this article and for my good friends who have supported me through thick and thin and kept me from making the wrong decisions. )