Our mission as the voice of the students at MIT is to spread news, information, events, experiences, artistic vent outs and beautiful literature within our design habitat to each and everyone via a (sort of) bi-monthly newsletter available in print as well as the web.
2. where students of MITID express their thoughts,
opinions and experiences with the rest of the
people. With this issue we bring to you a lot of
interesting articles. Dadi Pudumjee graced our
college with his presence; we bring to you a small
interview conducted with him. Speaking of
interviews, we have an Interview of Amish
Tripathi - the author of Immortals of Melhua,
the Shiva Triology. We have a poem, two stories,
an article about inspiration and an account of
what it was like to work for a cause in the
notoriously famous Budhwar Peth.
Happy Reading
-The Eds
Hello Again!!
It’s a whole new year, new beginnings for many,
while for some the extension of joyous times. This
is the first Issue of this year and so many of you
from the First year don't know what Hive is. Well,
this is it! :P We would like to wish you all the best,
make the most of your time here. I know this
sounds very clichéd but time really flies here,
except of course when you are in a lecture :D.
Being here, it’s a wonderful learning experience,
not just academically. With initiatives like Quasar,
Free Chai sessions and the enthusiastic celebra-
tions of all festivals, there is certainly lot to enjoy
and look forward to. Hive is one such initiative,
where students of MITID express their thoughts,
opinions and experiences with the rest of the
people. With this issue we bring to you a lot of
interesting articles. Dadi Pudumjee graced our
college with his presence; we bring to you a small
interview conducted with him. Speaking of
interviews, we have an Interview of Amish
Tripathi - the author of Immortals of Melhua,
the Shiva Triology. We have a poem, two stories,
an article about inspiration and an account of
what it was like to work for a cause in the
notoriously famous Budhwar Peth.
Happy Reading
-The Eds
Editorial
Editors Graphics team
l to r
Anuj Prajapati UG 3
Shreya Joshi UG 3
Khushi Shah UG 3
Bhakti Shah UG 3
Devanshi shah UG 3
l to r
Kartik Krishnan UG 3
Swaroopa Sanap UG 3
Palak Dudani UG 4
3. -Arwa Merchant
UG 3rd year
nce when I was safely tucked in bed
My father bent over to me and said
"You're bonkers, you've lost your mind
But all the great people are of that kind"
Thats from 'Alice in Wonderland' I accused
After all, it was an old phrase that he had used
But rabbits in waistcoats and talking mice
To me, they were secretly plausible and nice
Switching off the light with the snap of my hand
I opened my eyes to Wonderland
Imagining a dinner with the kind White queen
I ended up in a place to which I had never been
No! I had seen wonderland in my dreams
And surely it was devoid of blood-curdling screams
There were flowers there and not sharp thorns
Why did all the sweet beings here have horns?
No talking animals, no portions that could shrink
People do not even have water to drink
What is this place called...a place of no worth
The Mad-hatter walked in, "it is called Earth"
"Well, they had called it Wonderland once
But I'd take you to dinner if you give me a chance"
And so, we ate on the ceiling, drank good wine
Giggling and dancing throughout the dine
Between all the fun and mindless chatter
I also fell in love with the mad-hatter
Even in his odd hat that served as his crest
I am very certain that he looked his best
One moment I looked at my destroyed home
The very dream land I had wanted to roam
It was far from what I had expected to see
But the mad-hatter loved this home truly
Cause in the next moment when I gazed at the hatter
Not once did he question of what really did matter
In his deep, green eyes I saw a love for the weird
And I could only love him more for being that absurd
O
Why I
love the
MAD
HATTER
illustration- Shalaka Khopkar
4. Firstly I would like to congratulate you on the im-
mense success of the Shiva trilogy.
At the recent book signing held for the launch
of “THE OATH OF THE VAYUPUTRAS”, at
Crossword, Amanora, I got a wonderful op-
portunity to interview Amish Tripathi. Ex-
cerpts from the interview follow.
interviewing
Amish
Tripathi
Q: How tough or scary was it to leave your
14 year old career in finance and move to
writing?
A: Look I am a risk-averse banker so I didn’t jump
blind. I wrote my first two books along with my job, I
only resigned when I realized, Okay I can make my
living out of this!! So in that sense it wasn’t too scary.
Q: What was the biggest challenge you faced?
A: Getting the book published. The first book was
rejected by every publisher it was sent to, because
they said ‘ki bhai religious book will not sell! They
said that the youth aren’t interested in religion!’ So
that was the biggest challenge when there was no
publisher willing to back a book like this.
Q: How difficult was it then to get your book
published?
A: Finally I self-published. My long suffering agent,
who had all the publishers slamming the door on his
face, agreed to invest in the printing and I invested
in the marketing and that’s how we launched the
book. So I always tell people that if others don’t
back you, to hell with it, you back yourself!!
Q: Could you tell us a little about the
relationship between an author and an
editor?
A: It’s almost like the relationship of siblings,
like a brother or a sister. The editor has to be as
committed to the book as I am. We have massive
arguments, massive fights but it’s because she is as
committed as me, and I am a stubborn SOB and she
is as stubborn as I am. But the thing is out of those
arguments a good result emerges. So I always say
arguments are good, but arguments should never
move into insults that doesn’t serve any purpose.
Secondly arguments should occur between people
who respect each other, because only if you respect
each other will that argument lead to a better result
at the end.
Q: You have once thanked your editor for
making your “rather pedestrian English
vastly better”, how much say does an editor
have in what you actually write?
A: (Laughs heartily) With someone like me, very
little. I am a very stubborn guy. Look an editor’s job
is to polish what the author has written and bring
out the author’s voice in a clearer manner, if you
have a good relation then it’s certainly possible.
Q: Have there been any radical opposition to
your books from religious fanatics?
A: None at all. Why should there be? I think it’s
very obvious to anyone who reads my books that
I am a very devoted Shiva worshipper and that I
have written it with a lot of love and respect. Now
is it a different interpretation, Yes! But am I doing
anything new by doing this? No! In India we have
had a rich tradition of different interpretations of
myth for thousands of years. I always say I am not
being less Indian but more Indian; by coming out
with my own interpretation.
Q: What do you think is the biggest challenge
Imagesource:www.google.com
5. -Kartik Krishnan
UG 3rd year
that Indian authors face?
A: The scale of the publishing industry in India. It’s
a very small scale industry in India, its growing now
thankfully! But because it’s really small scale they
don’t really have professional systems, professional
marketing. Most of the staff in publishing companies
tends to be very low paid employees, so you don’t
get the best talent unlike in banking or FMCG.
Once they become bigger, everything will improve.
Q: What advice would you give to aspiring
authors?
A: I would give a suggestion; advice is like a very
condescending approach to things. Write from the
honesty of your heart. Don’t do market research
and write. Don’t try to write a book that you think
will be successful or a book which you think critiques
will like, because then you are corrupting your book.
Your book should be only about your heart, what
feels right to you. Some people may like it some
may not that doesn’t matter, be true to yourself!
Karmanye vadhika raste, Ma phaleshu kadachana.
It is told to us in the Gita, do your own karma, be
detached from the result, be detached from what
others think, that doesn’t matter, you should be
bothered about your own opinion of yourself. If
you respect yourself that is good enough, doesn’t
matter what others think.
Q: Who is your favourite author?
A: I am a voracious reader, so my favourite list keeps
expanding! So how I usually answer this question
is off the books that I have read in the last five-six
months or the recent past, what are the books that
I have liked. I liked a book called India: A Sacred
Geography by Diana Eck, who is a professor of
comparative religion at Harvard. When you read
the book you will agree with me that she must have
been an Indian in her previous birth, because she
writes with more passion about India than I have
seen many Indians write! I read a book called End of
Faith by Sam Harris, it’s actually a book on atheism
which might surprise you that I liked the book, the
way I see it is ‘Boss the definition of liberalism is
you should listen to opposing points of view! You
shouldn’t be a nutcase who says you don’t agree with
me then I will not listen to you’. Always be willing
to listen to a different point of view. Currently I am
reading a book called Land of the Seven Rivers by
Sanjeev Sanyal, brilliant author, brilliant author!!
I am also reading Mawlana Rumi’s Conradin.
There are very few people who can change
your life with four lines, Rumi was one of them.
Q: Do you consider yourself as a story-teller
or as an author?
A: I consider myself as a Shiva worshipper, every-
thing else is incidental.
Q: What message would you want to leave
our readers with?
A: I hope you like my books, and I hope you like
the third book. I hope I can give you a sense of
completion with the concluding book of the Shiva
trilogy.
Montserrat Llaurado
montserratllaurado.com
Montserrat Llaurado is a Creative Director with
more than 14 years of international experience.
Driven by her curiosity and instinct to make
ideas happen, she has worked in Austria,
Germany, Spain and the US. She is currently
based in San Francisco, California.
Featured Designer
6. Earlier that day.
I opened my eyes to a bleak and worn out
ceiling, a flimsy fan rotating at a miser’s pace.
The day was fresh and young and I was ready
for the job. My name was... irrelevant, after
all names are merely tags given to us by two
seemingly random adults at that point who may
have fancied the sound of a name or because it
once was the name of a great person or perhaps
a loved uncle. Some people give names which
mean things in certain exotic languages, I wish I
had one of those.
One hour, fifteen minutes and five seconds later
I walk out the door of the building where I slept
and proceed towards the snow filled streets and
my mind wanders. I hate it when it does that
on the job, I see a young boy wearing an old
sweater which was a few sizes bigger than his
own. Perhaps his father’s? Physically fit men
were called to serve their nation during the war
and maybe that boy’s father could have been a
normal footman or a war hero or a silent patriot.
I could never know.
Snow fell gently on my face, the cold brought me
back to the streets and away from a picture of
a war ravaged land with fathers dying without
sweaters. I walked sternly and used precisely
measured steps making my way towards the
address which I had been given to memorize, I
was a precise man. Each footstep was conscious
and each breath was measured, deep and
rejuvenating; I was trained well to perform in
cold environments.
I felt the dagger hidden in the crevices of my
coat, like a poisonous snake patiently waiting to
sink it’s venomous fangs deep into soft flesh. My
heart raced, they could train every part of me
except my heart. The hotel where I needed to
be was arriving around the corner, was I ready?
Blood rushed to my head and the adrenaline
started it’s ascent into my body, filling me with a
vigor which I would use to perform such a vile
act. I enter the lobby and gasp in awe, the ceiling
was adorned with crystal chandeliers reflecting
and refracting light akin to diamonds studded on
a wispy cloud and then I see her.
She sipped her tea softly and her gaze floated
lazily towards the surroundings, sitting in a
corner of the lobby perhaps waiting for her
husband or lover. I was given a picture and a
note with an address and time to perform the
job, if I failed or attempted to flee I would be
shot sometime in the next few days. There was
no escape with the reach of the people I worked
for, my greed was the downfall of my judgment.
I wondered if I could ever be with these people,
dine with them and laugh at their jokes which I
never understood. I licked my lips; salty with a
dash of fear.
I had forty seconds to slit this woman’s throat
and run out of the lobby. The door was 18
meters away from her and the rush for the train
besides the hotel ensured I could shrug off any
pursuers attempting to catch me. My face was
bearded and covered with a large fur cap so as
to remain incognito during the underground
time which I would spend to let my pursuers
Empathy
Black tea spilled on her lap, her emerald eyes met mine. I was killed that day.
She looked as beautiful as a painting on a blood stained wall, I was content.
7. reduce the heat. My shoes were caked with salt
to prevent slipping on the snowy pavements and
my fists primed to fend off anyone trying to hold
me back.
Thirty nine.
I started walking towards her, precision was the
key. My gloved hand reaches inside the coat and
grips the dagger’s hard handle unsheathing it
from its warm nest.
Thirty four.
I slowly and cautiously walk towards her gently
navigating through the masses of people chatting
and laughing, clinking their glasses of vodka
mixed with juniper berry extract.
Twenty nine.
I stood beside her and all the muscles in my
body tense up, ready to commit themselves to
whatever my brain signals them to.
Twenty eight.
I swiftly swing the knife aiming for her throat.
She accidently drops her black tea onto her lap
and bends her head down in shock, the dagger
cutting through the warm air above her head
and missing her by half an inch.
Twenty five.
The force of the swing staggers me, I trip on the
edge of the carpet elevation and fall on the table,
knocking it down along with teacups and a kettle
of black tea. Her emerald eyes meet mine and
before I know it large burly hands grip me. Her
company had arrived.
Twenty.
The man whips out his silver revolver and
without hesitation pumps two bullets into
my heart, the blood splatters the wall. I was
surprised it was red, they said it would be black
with the filth I had in me. Her face looked so
beautiful.
Eighteen.
My eyes closed, I was content.
-Anuj Prajapati
UG 3rd Year
Caught on Camera!
8. is a leading puppeteer in
India and the founder of
The Ishara Puppet The-
atre Trust. He was awarded
the Sangeet Natak Akademi
Award in 1992. His univer-
sity education was in Pune
later at the NID National In-
stitute of Design and Darpana
Academy of Performing Arts in
Ahmedabad under late Meher
Contractor, after which he went to
the Marionette Theatre Institute in
Stockholm, Sweden, and studied pup-
petry under Michael Meschke.
Dadi
Pudumjee
Q. A very warm welcome to you here at
MITID, you’ve had a fantastic journey so far.
You shifted gears from Graphic Design to
Puppetry, how did your journey in puppetry
begin?
The journey began from this very city, Pune. I had a
gift of two string puppets in my childhood, which I
carried with me, from Manny’s, one of the best book
shops in India then. They often used to get books
on puppetry and craft. It was a lot of self-learning
through those books. School encouraged something
called the Scratch Concert, where everybody had to
get on the stage and perform. There were the Poo-
na Women’s Council Charity shows too, and then
one thing led to another. I went to NID, Ahmed-
abad in 1971. I was a part of the puppet section of
Darpana Academy of performing Arts, on the eve-
ning when it became more formalized. Then there
was no looking back.
Q. How do you implement your Graphic
Design learning in the work you are doing?
I think it grows with you. The things you learn in
foundation like colour, form, material and work-
shop exercises; they stay with you right through. It
helps me with my work even today. The exposure
I got from going to NID, staying away from home
opened a whole world which I would have never
experienced. That is very important for a young
person to learn to see new things and be exposed to.
Q. You started your career in 1976. How has
puppetry evolved in India since then and how
is it now?
It has definitely evolved and could and rather
should be better. India already has a strong rooted
traditional puppet theatre. There are many pup-
peteer families in Rajasthan, West Bengal, Orissa,
Maharashtra etc. Unfortunately, most of them are
languishing because of change in space and time,
the medium, the messages and the audience. New
mediums like film and television have made art eas-
ily accessible but it can never create a live perfor-
mance impact.
Q. How can we solve this?
See the puppeteers have to step up their game and
Photo Credits: Ravi Vazirani
9. Marionnette International Puppetry Association).
There was a world congress with a big festival and
different participating countries in Dresden, Ger-
many. It was maybe for the first time that a contem-
porary puppetry theatre group had participated.
It was from Sri Ram Centre for Art and Culture,
Delhi. The performance was of “DholaMaru”, a
traditional story, but the presentation was with large
masks, puppets and actors. Up to then and even to-
day, to a large extent, it has been a traditional and
a very safe art that is always going out. This per-
formance, however, was different and we got a
standing ovation. Both my teachers were there,
the late Meher Contractor from Darpana Academy
and Michael Meschke from the Marionette Theatre
Institute. That was special for me. (smiles)
Q. How does it feel here? What do we do to
bring you back?
Feels good, feels fresh and bright, walking through
the studios. Its young, new and with a lot of poten-
tial. You’re here and you’re bringing ideas and peo-
ple (Dhimant sir laughs) and that takes it forward.
And I would love to come here, conduct workshops
and try to involve all the disciplines on a single plat-
form and make an effective performance piece.
build up their audience. You just can’t blame the
new media. Plus, most traditional folk art forms are
changing and are being appropriated. The young-
er generation wants change, but face a dilemma
of what is tradition? What is modern? If they try
something new, are they destroying tradition? To
keep it alive, it has to evolve. If you stop it, it’ll
become a museum piece. Sometimes, trying new
things might end up being a kitsch but it’s a process.
It needs exposure through workshops and seminars.
Q. What is your Design Process when you are
coming up with a new act or a concept?
There are two things in this, a non-commissioned
piece you create for yourself, for your own festival or
production and the other is a commissioned piece.
When you have a commissioned piece it’s not always
what you like to do but then you have to make this
connection; how do you make it interesting? What
could you put into it? How do you make the inter-
pretation and convince the client? All these skills are
involved. The other one represents the freedom to
create for yourself and that comes from a theme,
a piece of music or poem I like. I prefer to attach
it with a subtle message and not hammer it down.
Q.What has been the most memorable
moment of your Career?
I think one of the most interesting moments of my
career is of UNIMA (Union Internationale de la
Featured Designer
Raymond Loewy
Raymond Loewy (No-
vember 5, 1893 – July 14,
1986) was an industrial
designer who achieved
fame for the magnitude
of his design efforts across
a variety of industries.
-Bhakti Shah
UG 3rd year
10. S
melly lanes, hanging clothes leaking down
ancient balconies, beefy men with an ogling
tendency, slimy pools of spit and paan staining
the dented footpaths. A visual, olfactory overload
hit me, as I stood taking in Budhwar Peth. When I
say Budhwar Peth, I don’t mean the electronics or
stationery hub of the city. I’m talking about exactly
what Budhwar Peth makes anyone even mildly in
the know think of. Yes, the notorious Red Light
area. “I’m happy about your cause, but does it
HAVE to be this?” was my mother’s concern when
I told her I would be coming here for the next three
weeks. I wondered myself. There are organizations
dealing with children, cleanliness, education,
nature, HIVAIDS and so on. But why was I so
hell bent on Saheli that dealt with prostitution?
Was it curiosity? Fascination? An attraction for this
enigma of a world only whispered about?
I parked my bike cautiously with muddy feet and
tossed a mandatory dupatta around my neck. Right
across me sat some women wearing bright saris and
gowns, flowers in their hair and indifferent faces. A
group of youngsters passed by, looked at them, at
each other and exchanged a smirk. I rolled my eyes
and set off towards the office. The magnitude of
what I had gotten into set in, sparking excitement
and unease. Saheli HIVAIDS Karyakarta Sangha
is a CBO (Community Based Organization). A CBO
is when the community in question works for
itself and we volunteers simply assist them. While
climbing the stairs, I passed the Community
Kitchen that bustled with women and spicy aromas,
the Care Home, a day care facility and a tiny library
with a mirror. The next floor was the main office.
Shelves exploding with stacks of files and papers,
Zaroor condom boxes, a rudimentary computer
and lots of very visual posters invited me as I settled
down expectantly, welcomed by simple, warm co-
volunteers. We were briefed, told to completely
shed any inhibitions and specifically, respect this
uncharted territory we were about to enter.
The work was miscellaneous. It ranged from taking
a woman to the clinic for a variety of things or bank
transactions (an unforeseen revelation of
ke peeche kya hai?
Illustration:SwaroopaSanap
11. my ignorance), helping out with forms and other
administrative work or teaching kids how to
make a paper boat. This diversity heightened my
experience and I ended up learning lots of things
(like bank transactions). I once took this woman,
Renuka, for sonography. It started out awkwardly,
since she hardly knew any Hindi and I’m genuinely
ashamed of how my Hindi sounds. My conversing
cues had abandoned me and a long walk stretched
ahead. We walked silently, nearing a group of
giggling women with undersized, pink gowns
accosting aloof-looking men. It felt like a movie.
Subconsciously, I quickened my pace, only to
look around and see Renuka chattering with these
women. I cautiously retraced my steps. Should I
look at them? And smile? Or stand a bit apart? Just
join in? I didn’t even speak Kannada. Finally, we
reached the clinic. All I knew was that she was from
Karnataka and had been in the business since nine
years. It was only after being the mediator between
the doctor’s questions and her answers did a chill
run down my spine. Renuka was twenty, with a six
year old son and a past of five abortions. Felt like a
nasty slap. I recalled stupidly my irritation the last
night over making chapatis. It felt so insignificant.
Equal time spent on earth and how contrasting a
destiny.
Thinking of such incidents triggers a part of me
that relishes talking about “those Saheli days”. We
were once to admit a woman to Sassoon Hospital
for some appendicitis issues. Little did we know
that we were unsuspectingly entering a nightmare;
in the superlative. My first impression of Sassoon
was of a railway station with railways replaced by
ambulances and stretchers. The gigantic digital
clock, huge cylindrical pillars, sleeping people
scattered across the floor and a strong stench of
urine, gutkha, sweat, alcohol, spirit and any other
nausea inducing smell possible. Patients with a
chopped limb or a twisted foot or a partially smashed
skull lay writhing on dirty, stained beds. Blood
covered cotton balls flew around like dandelions,
only the meadow here resembled a battlefield. The
doctor called his interns “interns” while wheeled
beds with shrunken old women were tossed in and
out of elevators.
We rushed around getting the woman’s tests done
and convincing the doctor to admit her only to be
told at the end of four traumatic hours that she
was probably just pregnant and had been lying
the whole time. The only thing that stopped me
from smashing a skull then was that I’d already
seen one. In this exasperating moment I wondered,
if at times, we were spoon feeding these women.
I looked around at the people who came here,
mostly illiterate, confused but they found a way,
right? Did these women really need us volunteers to
hold their hand and take them everywhere? What
stopped their want for independence? Or was that
a completely alien idea for them, considering most
of them have never left their brothel? We requested
the woman’s companion to go collect the reports
if we told her where and how but she vehemently
rejected the idea which shocked me momentarily.
I don’t know if one can blame them for this fear
of being in the public. They live a life behind the
curtains and it must be daunting to suddenly shed
them off and run into the light. In fact, when we
went right inside the brothels on field visits, most
women wished they could change their address for
ration cards.
Like anyone else, these women yearn for social
approval and equality. They know and have
12. -Swaroopa Sanap
UG 3rd Year.
Saheli doesn’t promise a rescue from the grim
world they live in. It’s dark, dreary and al-
most completely deprived of hope. Saheli pol-
ishes this hope, brings it to a shine, lights up
the shadows and then makes sure it lingers.
It’s as simple as that. I thank this wonderful
place for letting me be a part of it and dras-
tically increasing my appreciation for pretty
much, everything.
accepted what is thought about them, but it is we
who fuel the stigmatization. So many people became
uneasy when I told them where I worked. A girl I
know started crying when we were simply walking
in the Budhwar peth area, not remotely close to
the lanes. People cringe at the thought of walking
through “the area”; parents advice their children
to take alternate routes. It’s like a mental void,
flourishing but never spoken about. It also is some
women (most of them, breathtakingly beautiful)
making a living. The brothels usually house their
families and every day, the women go downstairs for
work. They are proud mothers and often support a
drunkard partner. They invite you warmly into their
tiny homes for tea and show you their daughter’s
school work. They sit together watching TV and
wisecrack-ing. They try to talk to you in broken
English and share wafers. They remember you the
next time you come and grin from their perch at the
brothel door. They also sometimes, meet a man, fall
in love, pay out all debts to the Madam with his help
and shift into a new flat and sometimes a new city
to start afresh (I met two such cases. It was magical).
A whale sneezed out a whale -Tanya Gijy
UG Sem 5
illustration
13. Like the elders say – ‘In nature, everything
around us has a spirit. And it is, to evolve.’
In pursuit of never
ending inspiration
-Palak Dudani
UG 4th year
The fourth year students of product design had
an interesting two day workshop with Max Babi.
As living- beings, part of the very nature we study
and try to get inspired from, we all found new ways
of looking at the world around us, both within the
realm of nature and without. It might be interesting
to realise, how there is place for only ‘perfect’
(contextual) solutions in nature, as the non-perfect
ones die a natural death in evolutionary cycle,
leaving us with million-of-years’ tried and tested –
fool proof - solutions. Perhaps the human world is
the only place where bad solutions (still make their
way into production and) continue to exist.
Humans are learning, and it’s this pursuit of
knowledge and understanding that makes thinking
brain look to nature for inspiration. In the toddler
phase (in our evolutionary timeline) that we’re yet
to arrive in, mimicking perhaps is the best way of
learning things in the beginning. After all mimicking
is how a baby grows up to learn how to brush, have
a bath and ultimately – make sense of the world.
Perhaps then it would be justified if we mimicked
nature to make sense of the universe, which is so far
removed and bigger from the little world we have
created for ourselves.
Nature, in its entirety is intuitive. There is a
connection between the living organism and the
elements that make up its surroundings, and life
seems to exist in some kind of absorbed synchrony.
Juxtapose that with our world, where we’re
surrounded by dead products (as famously called
‘dead ducks’ by Jain sir), which exist in a different
disconnected space. Though humans seem to
afford inter-personal connection, the connection is
absent when it comes to our world and its elements
(which we’ve created for ourselves). Could this – the
disconnect with our world –be one of the factors
that makes us the colossally damaging species that
we are?
Though could it be possible to think of our world
as we know it, as connected and responsive? In
a different universe, Munehiko Sato and Ivan
Poupyrev at Disney research, experimented with the
very same idea - of an interactive and responsive
world. According to their paper – ‘Touché is a novel
capacitive touch sensing technology that provides
rich touch and gesture sensitivity to analogue and
digital objects.... Sensing with Touché is not limited
to inanimate objects – the user’s body can also
be made touch and gesture sensitive. It makes it
very easy to add interactivity to unusual, nonsolid
objects and materials, such as a body of water. We
can recognize when users touch the water’s surface
or dip their fingers into it i.e. not only can we
determine that a touch event occurred, we can also
determine how it occurred.
To see the world around us as a connected space
where the doorknobs know your touch and the
water fountains sense when you pass them by, I
can’t help but think that it’s our innocent attempt
at mimicking nature. After all, we’ve been here
only seconds compared to existence of life on
earth, though our disconnect has already caused
enough trouble. To be connected – with people
and elements around us – that’s how harmony is
achieved - within our society, and world. If we could
see the bigger picture, we’d realise all harm, be on
interpersonal level or inter- national, is a product
of disconnect between people and ideas. And to
think of disconnect with nature, by the destruction
and disharmony we cause on this planet, if we were
to draw analogies between earth and human body,
it’d be interesting to think that the human species
could very well be thought of as the metaphorical
tumour on the face of this earth. Just like the white
blood cells which multiply to protect the body from
disease, only to form tumour and destroy it, humans
- not unlike the white blood cells of tumour – are
set firm on the path of being the very cause of the
death of the planet that gave them life.
14. Hive is accepting
For next month’s issue, we are waiting for you guys to submit illustrations, reviews,
write ups and gossips about anything and eveything that’s relevant to MIT-ID (or not).
Mail in your entries to :
hive.mit@gmail.com
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For old issues go to hivearchive.blogspot.in
‘Tell me again how it happened’, said the doctor applying
ointment to the little girl’s bruised knee.
‘I was riding, when the cycle wheel got stuck in a pothole’,
repeated the girl for the second time that day. ‘I was
fortunate, but he was run over by a car.’
After finishing with the girl he turned his attention to the
motionless patient on the operating table. It was his first
operation. With an arm outstretched, he said, ‘Cotton!’
On receiving cotton he swiftly closed the wound.
‘Thank you!’ said the gleeful girl as she took her teddy from
her father.
- Kartik Krishnan
UG 3rd year
15. If the aroma of salsa from the 3rd floor had
enticed you, you should know this was the
conclusion of a 2 week stay of Prof. Jorge and
his two students Miegel (Mike) and Laura. Their
stay here included a study of our cultures and an
observation of the similarities between the two.
The UG Sem 3 students had a workshop with
them which expounded on the perception
of death in both the countries. Also they
designed a seating arrangement near
the tuck shop!
Sparkle and shimmer of mirrors
with a twirl of colours is on the way
with the arrival of Navratri. 3 days
of celebration ensues in our college
with the Gujarati beats thrumming
out on our lawn. And if you don’t know
garba, don’t worry, practice sessions are
underway!
Mex Talk
Navratri
Ganesh
Chaturthi
Onam
Ganesha Chaturthi: Did the
late night drum beats make you
dance on your feet? That was the
advent of Ganapati Bappa for
Ganesh Chaturthi! Our foyer was
enriched with the festive mood with
the aarti and the Prasad. The
festival lit up the place for five
full days till the much danced
about visarjan.
Ganpati Bappa Morya!
16th September brought about a bounty of
beautiful girls dressed in the traditional Onam
attire of the cream and gold sari. The
various aspects of Onam were explained
along with a beautiful performance of
their traditional dance. And I’m sure
everyone used the boat for photos
and swung on the swing!
Current
Affairs
It was a day of grief for our stomachs when you, with
your steel vessels, wooden tables and milk packets, were
suddenly just an empty room. No longer will there be a
quick cold bournvita to cure a late night or mango milk-
shakes to quench a summery burning thirst. No one will
complain about the mysore dosa actually being stuffed with
schezwan and no one will raise eyebrows if you pay them with
their own éclairs as change. Pins and screwdrivers will stay in the
workshop and not float in the coffee. The occasional wave through
the window will now be met by a dusty carpenter.
The clangs and sizzles of a busy kitchen have been drowned out by ruth-
less drill machines. The mouthfuls of laughter haunt the third floor’s si-
lent corridors. No more heated exchanges at the counter and a grinning
menu board to greet hungry faces on a too-sunny-to-walk-to-the-mess
day. “Bhaiyya please thoda extra chocolate” is now obsolete.
We still, sometimes, wonder about the canteen menu. Our feet
still, sometimes, step towards you for a chai on a rainy day. We
also still count your door as the key poster spot. Our hair still
holds traces of your fragrance. For us, you are always alive.
R.I.P Canteen (2008-2013)
News by: Neha Mistry, PG 2nd year
Obituary: Swaroopa Sanap, UG 3rd year
Santa in September? It may
be a little confusing. Well,
Secret Santa will soon
bring in lots of gifts, by
you and for you.
Secret
Santa
Photo Credits: Aditya Tambe
