The NISTian, May, 2002

Ode to a Tigress

                  With the grace of dancer,
               the serenity of a priestess,
                     the majesty of a queen,
                      the pride of a mother,
prowling the jungle on velvet paws,
a watchful eye on your playful cubs.
                                     I gaze at you,
                                And fall in love.

                                                                                              Ravi P. Reddy

FROM THE DIRECTOR’S DESK

           I would like to take this opportunity to raise three issues, all of which are of utmost importance to us.

          The first is the widespread gloom among citizens of the country with regard to the happenings of Gujarat. Secularism is a pillar on which the edifice of India is built; the others being a caste-less society and equality for all before the eyes of the law. Creating divisions amongst citizens is a demonic weapon being used by unscrupulous politicians to promote their narrow selfinterests. We must never allow our country to be divided on these lines. I want all members of the NIST family to make a silent pledge to this effect.

         The second issue is of lifestyles. I often think of how little time we devote to reading good books and
magazines. Does our lifestyle allow us only fleeting
glimpses as we get on TV and Internet? What about the "seemingly old-fashioned" way of curling up with a
book? What about time for study? I heard (jokingly, of course) that some of our students celebrate six birthdays in a year! This is like the captain of the ship - everytime    he sets sail with a new set of passengers on a cruise he declares that he is going to celebrate his birthday - therefore it is time for another carnival on the ship. The times are hard, as you will agree. The message is loud and clear - we must refocus our energy and time on the priorities and plans of our life instead of frittering them away on trivial pursuits.

          The third issue is of "lifeskills". I heard this term for the first time on my visit to TCS, Kolkata. No longer do we talk of special courses, Computer Skills, English Language Training, etc., but of an all encompassing term: LIFESKILLS. It includes all things that make up our personality, our knowledge, our grades, our attitude and our relationships. It is seen as a holistic entity and not as an aggregate of disparate skills. It also means leading a life of continuous learning since lifeskills are subject to social and market forces as well. Lifeskills are dynamic and hence continuous learning is the only option.

My best wishes to all NISTIANS.

Sangram Mudali

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SEASONS OF NIST  (Sthitapragyan Naik, 2nd Year)

    Amidst the hectic schedule, and continuous vertical movement of life's surging waves, something makes me feel its miraculous existence. Here life contains within itself infinite possibilities and capacities but still the wholeness of life comes when the unparalleled embracing forces of nature get together to form the background.

     NIST is a microcosm. A land mirrors myriad spectacular proportions in an endless revelry of hardwork, intelligence, sincerity, destination and natural embellishments. It embraces all from a faint sound of a drop to the loud vastness of space, from flickers of flame to gusts of winds. It is land where time seems to stand still and yet moves…

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NISTIAN AFFAIRS (Sheetal Pradhan, 4th Year)

The story begins on Orientation Day
All the guys are happy and gay

Then there begins the silsila of meetings
The couple is all set to play a new innings

Lastly we pray that the steady affair lead a happy life everafter
And with due condolences to the frustrated ones to lead their life with cheer and laughter

DIVINE DESIGN (Anupam Kumar Das, 4th year)
(Adapted from an unknown author)

     When I was a little boy, my mother used to sew a great deal. I would sit at her knee, look up from the floor, and ask what she was doing. She informed me thatshe was embroidering.
     As from the underside I watched her work from within the boundaries of the little hoop that she held in her hand, I complained to her that it sure looked messy from where I sat. She’d smile at me, looked down and gently say, "Son, you go about your playing and when I am finished with my embroidering, I'll put you on my knee and let you see it from my side". I would wonder ,why she was using some dark threads along with the bright ones and why they seemed so jumbled from myview.
     A few minutes would pass and then I would hear mother's voice say, "Son come sit on my knee". This I did only to be surprised and thrilled to see a beautiful flower or sunset. I could not believe it, because from underneath it looked so messy. Then mother would say to me, "My son, from underneath it did look messy and jumbled, but you did not realize that there was a plan on the top. It was a design. I was only following it. Now look at it from my side and you will see what I was doing".
     Many times through the years, I have looked up to heaven and said, "Father what are you doing?" He has answered, "I am embroidering your life". I say, "It looks like such a mess to me. It seems so jumbled. The threads seem so dark. Why can't they all be bright?" The father seems to tell me, "My child you go about your business of doing my business, and one day I will bring you to heaven and put you on my knee and you will see the
plan from my side".

HOPE (Sanjay Kumar Hembram, 2nd Year)

In the search of peace and solace
My mind wanders all through,
In this world full of hatred
I seek an oasis of love

Let alone in the deep
Ocean of troubles,
I struggle against all odds,
With no land nearby
And none to cheer me up

I feel exhausted and tired
No strength to move a step more,
Under the weight of my own sorrows,
I lay hidden like a corpse

My eyes are full of tears
Tears of fear and despair,
In the broken heart of mine
My dreams lie scattered

But hope shows the path of life,
Flash as lightning,
When darkness spreads
Consoles the hearts with new dreams,
But for hope and only for hope,
I would have died long before.

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HACKING (Gopal Shah, 4th Year)

     Hacking is an art by which people illegally gain access to, and sometimes tampers with information in a computer system. It is considered a cyber crime.
      Hacking is done with different motives. The fact that encourages hackers is that no security system in the world is cent percent secured. There are of course complex algorithms which makes hacking a Herculean job, but then with a little bit of luck and considerable knowledge, a hacker tries to crack open the security system.

     There are some hackers who lay hands on secret dealings of a corporate, others on a commercial website, and some even pose threat to the national security. In addition, some inquisitive ones exist who just try to break into someone’s mailbox. The last category of hackers is the ones who might effect us in our day to day life. The hackers can be any known people who have little workable information about you.

      How much does the hacking of your mailbox can effect you? For the new users, it hardly matters if someone knows his password. However, as you join a company and the mail transaction increases, the hacker can cause havoc. For persons like me who considers his mailbox as a safe haven to keep his entire project files and important documents without the fear of losing data due to hard disk crash, it is utmost important that my mailbox remains protected. The hackers can delete all your important mails, addresses from address book, subscribe to illegal sites on your account, send some cranky mails to persons important to you. The consequences can be quite dangerous. Most importantly you lose all your secret data and    sometimes your mail id too if the guy changes the password.

      There are many methods involved in hacking mail accounts.   Software programs such as AMBPR (Advanced Mailbox Password Recovery) can be used by your friends to view your password. However, the easiest way is the password lookup method. Almost every mail client provides this method, which can be easily misused by your friends. The only information one needs to have about the person is his date of birth and sometimes location and he can straight away see your password question. Normally when a new user creates his mail account he is unaware of "password recovery question". So usually, he puts very simple questions. Some of the questions which I encountered while hacking my friends id were "Which is my favorite cricket team", "Where do my parents stay", etc. Others are bit tricky but their answers can also be found like "my favorite pet". Since I am his friend, I know much of his personal information to answer all such questions. The method is so effective that I have been successful in eight out of ten attempts. Below I have mentioned some tips for improving security in your mail accounts.

      Always give false information such as date of birth, location while registering. It is better to give information of your friend or granny, so that you don’t forget it. As such, as nobody will ask you your granny’s date of birth.

     Give false answers to password lookup question. Say the answer to the question "my favorite cricket team" can be "mathematics". The other mode is to discourage the hacker by putting questions such as "How many fools are required to hack my account"?

      Always ensure complete sign out while closing your mail account.

     For the persons who are yet to open here is the brief review of security in popular mail clients:

      Rediffmail: It is many times slow, doesn’t provide many features such as viewing of html pages, and is not user friendly. However, as far as security is concerned I think it is the most secured system. The hacker has to give the correct answer to password lookup question in five attempts. In addition, the user has the option of changing the password question and answer.

      Yahoo: It is the most popular mail client, user friendly, fast, and supports a number of other services such as yahoo profile, yahoo group, yahoo messenger, etc. The only disadvantage is a hacker can have as many attempts on your password question and you can’t change your password question.

     Hotmail: It has the same disadvantage as that of yahoo that one can have as many attempts on password question. The advantage is you can change your password question and answer.

      USA.net: After becoming pay site, hardly I think anyone of us would bother to open account over there.

      Indiatimes: This is the least preferred site. Anyone who thinks of opening here must be thinking of utilizing 10MB space or read the English daily Times of India as they are very soon make it compulsory for all the readers to have an indiatimes account. It provides similar features like that of yahoo but is extremely slow here in Berhampur. There are useless additional features such as smart seva. Unlike yahoo and rediffmail it doesn’t ask for personal information such as date of birth or city of location and shows the password question as soon as you hit the "forgot password" link. The worse is it shows the users original password so that the hacker can use your account without the prior knowledge of the user that his account is hacked. You also don’t have the ption of changing your password question. So the only options left when you have left a stupid question, are to either leave the account or hide the account from others.

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SAND OR STONE? (Punya Shloka Mall, 3rd Year)
(Source: Internet)

     A story tells that two friends were walking through the desert. In a specific point of the journey, they had an argument, and one friend slapped the other one in the face. The one, who was slapped, was hurt, but without anything to say, he wrote in the sand:        
     TODAY, MY BEST FRIEND SLAPPED ME IN THE FACE.
     They kept on walking, until they found an oasis, where they decided to take a bath. The one who was slapped and hurt started drowning, and the other friend saved him. When he recovered from the fright, he wrote on a stone:
     TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SAVED MY LIFE. 
     The friend, who saved and slapped his best friend, asked him, "Why, after I hurt you, you wrote in the sand, and now you write on a stone?"
     The other friend, smiling, replied: "When a friend hurts us, we should write it down in the sand, where the winds of forgiveness get in charge of erasing it away, and when something great happens, we should engrave  it in the stone of the deepest memories, where no wind can erase it"

• Learn to write in sand, when  you have differences and hurt feelings with your friend.

• Learn to write on stone when your friend had some thing done really good to you.

ERROR TERROR K. V. S. Madhav (4th Year) Source: Internet

     Some new error messages planned for Microsoft Windows 2000!

1) Smash forehead on keyboard to continue.
2) Enter any 11-digit prime number to continue.
3) Press any key to continue or any other key to quit.
4) Press any key... no, no, no, NOT THAT ONE!
5) Press Ctrl-Alt-Del now for IQ test.
6) Close your eyes and press escape three times.
7) Bad command or file name! Go stand in the corner.
8) This will end your Windows session. Do you want to play another game?
9) Windows message: You have just made a type mismatch! Shall I format your brain?
10) This is a message from God: "Rebooting the universe, please log out"
11) Keyboard not attached. Press F1 to continue.
12) BREAKFAST.SYS halted... Cereal port not responding.
13) COFFEE.SYS missing... Insert cup and press any key.
14) CONGRESS.SYS corrupted... Re-boot Washington   D.C? (Y/N)
15) File not found. Should I fake it? (Y/N)
16) Bad or missing mouse driver. Spank the cat? (Y/N)
17) Runtime Error 6D at 417A: 32CF: Incompetent User.
18) Error reading FAT record: Try the SKINNY one? (Y/N)
19) WinErr 547: LPT1 not found... Use backup...  PENCIL and PAPER.
20) User Error: Replace user.
21) Windows VirusScan 1.0 - "OS/2 found: Remove it?  (Y/Y)"
22) Backup not found: (A)bort (R)etry (P)anic

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ONLY FOR YOU (Aruna Kumar Tripathy, 3rd Year)

You came through my dream
You came as a wind
And blew my mind
Before I think
How you are so kind

Your glorious success
did matter with me
I didn't know how
Still I tried to swim
in your stream

I don't know why
In a lonely place are you
Where wind cheers up
Minds however are thou

You said hard work
Must be with me here
But I, I don't care who
Never laughed but wept or died here
Still hope I'll know
What is the joy forever…

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THE LOOKING GLASS (Naveen T. Varghese, 4th Year)

-Lao Tzu

     Future is contained in time past and present. There are numerous lessons to be learnt. Answers exist, but they must be sought for; an incessant search in which life is put through continual assessment leading to the evolution of a better being. This attitude allows one to take everything that life throws up, in one’s stride. The surest test if a man be sane is if he accepts life whole, as it is, without needing by measure or touch, to understand.
     For me days pass here faster than light so much so that before one realizes, the next day comes rushing… stands right in front of you. Our experiences lie somewhere within these torrents. The mind travels at a  maddening pace. Within seconds, images flash across my eyes, perching valiantly over things that I treasure. Thoughts unleash to everything that is a part of me and my growing, to everything that made a little good, a little evil of me. It vacillates between what I was, what I am and what I will be. I seek for the whys and wherefores of all that had happened and of all that is happening. Whether change is a slave of mine, I do not know, but there is something changed and changing. In a moment have I traveled a million places and I seek no more; let me lie down for a while to see if I missed anything.

     For each one of us, the story is the same. The only difference is the time, when we pause from our fast moving lives and look at ourselves. It’s like turning inwards to redeem and rediscover ourselves. Redemption demands a silent retrospection into the crux of human existence. But then, isn't existence beyond the power of words to define?

     Slowly, but for sure, we are all turning into tailors for whom the measurement of his client is the only perfect knowledge in the world. For him, George is forty-four long. Any protest that this answer isn't really satisfactory will be met with the assurance that he is unquestionably right about George, because he can cut a whole suit of clothes that will fit George perfectly the moment George walks in the door. Partial knowledge seems to satisfy us, effecting in our inability to estimate the depths of reality In the words of the Chinese mystic, Lao Tzu, "People through finding something beautiful, think something else unbeautiful, through finding one man fit; judge another unfit. Life and death, though stemming from each other, seem to conflict as stages of change, difficult and easy as phases of achievement, long and short as measures of contrast, high and low as degrees of relation; but since the varying tones gives music to a voice." Every distinction defines its opposite and in many cases, the interplay of opposites is indivisible, just as varying tones makes up music. However, we are constricted within distinctions. If we approach the world through distinctions, we can never untangle our perceptions. Everything seems to derive a conclusion because of one's prejudices. We are bartering our innocence for some false sense of success and security. We are strangulating the child in us. We have failed to realize that we are losing our child-like disposition. We were created in the purest of forms. We are diligently involved in the process of diluting this purity.

     Life is one in all and ours is but a portion of this same common life. And in that one part of life that is ours, we can make life better or worse. We can only improve life in ourselves by destroying the barriers that divide our life from that of others, and by considering others as ourselves. The search for a better life begins at this point, a never-ending one both from within and without.

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With all my might, I stood there
in front of the door that opened to happiness.
I stretched out my hands to eternity,
to the ethereal music of my mind.
There was seamless beauty in all that my eyes saw,
the beauty that breathed air of life
I talked to the white light, which took my pains away.

Oh! How I wish to be there always…Forever.
Time never knew how to make a start.
I had known by then that it had lost its power.
I lost those clouds of joy in the crowds.
There is none to wipe off my tears.
My eyes that saw beauty are tired of the water,
clouds rained through my eyes, the pace unabating.

Time is menacingly powerful here.
Lights are burning hot.
My skin has charred; there are still smokes everywhere.
Silence is the noise, and the noise has
drowned the tunes of my music.

I am the battle, fighting with myself, win or lose
Ihave to pay the price.

So tell me, can you give me back…my clouds?
Or could you,
Tell me where can I find them;
but then why, you or anyone else.
Won't you desire to take rides on them?
Aren't you the crowd? But…

When you do,
do take me with you.
--I will show you what I have seen.
Your ears will listen to the music
and the lyrics of the white light;
easing the pain of search.

I have seen the light and talked.
So the white light and you.
I play for both of you.
I just want to be there,
for you, and for me.
Then I will tell the secrets,

of how you are me
of how I am you
of how the white light
is the two of us or all of us
And many more…

But before you decide on a ride,
let your desires of flesh and blood,
be sacrificed on the altar of light.
For I am still struggling
to face that unavoidable sting.
And I am still searching for the one I lost.

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STEAMING AWAY… (Raghavan.H, 4th Year)

        Technology has a habit of peeping sheepishly through the half open door of time, after having arrived late. If those frizzy-haired scientists and engineers had invented the diesel and electric engines, a little earlier, we would have saved a lot of coal, a bit of the environment and arrived home faster. But I am glad that they arrived late, for, I was able to undertake some memorable journeys on the black beauties-as a steam locomotive would be described by a railway buff, I being one. In the following paragraphs, I have described my last journey in a steam train. So, enjoy the ride.

       I started from Tumkur, a dusty town in Karnataka, where my grandfather had been living for the past fifty years. It was five in the evening, and very hot-the monsoon was weeks overdue. I was waiting in the station that had everything -not only food and retiring rooms and human company but also the unique character of its town, its peculiar stinks and perfumes. There were also the ubiquitous long distance travelers with their steel trunks. They sit on it, sleep beside it, use it for a table and when their train draws in, they hire a skinny man to wrestle it on board. As I rambled around the station yard, waiting for the train to arrive, I discovered that the unluckiest man in this season of heat was a fireman on a steam locomotive feeding the sooty thunder box, which like all steam locomotives looked filthy, ancient and reliable. Only the cow, which was rummaging for food in the dustbin, seemed unaffected by the heat.

        Soon our train puffed into the platform and I quickly boarded one of the battered coaches and settled myself in a window seat. When I leaned out of the window I saw that thirty odd people were clinging on to the engine and some were even hanging from the carriages. These seemingly magnetized people had the effect of making the train look small. Then, to the sound of young beggar boy's flute black smoke darkened the sky and the train rattled east. For miles, on the plains men, women and children were planting or tending crop under the blazing sun and were burnt as black as their buffaloes. As I was lost in the scenery outside, I was awakened by shouts from a vendor selling peanuts, who served them on pages from old school notebooks, discarded and thus recycled. At around seven P.M. we stopped at a tiny station near the village of Golhalli.

     An hour passed. This is an aspect of train travel that must not be overlooked: the unexplained stop in the middle of nowhere; and the unexplained delay-hours during which only a dog barks, a child weeps and someone shuts off the radio. You don't know whether you will leave in 2 minutes or 2 hours, so it is unwise to stray very far from the train. Then, an unexplained whistle sounds and a few seconds later the train moves, and a hundred odd passengers run beside, trying to board. We left Golhalli. But, just after dark the lights in the train failed, and we traveled clattering through pitchblackness,with the steam engine puffing and wheezing and the whistle blowing off-key while sparks from the smoke stack sailed past the window like fireflies.
     Rest of the journey passed without any incidents. It was almost nine by the time we arrived in Bangalore. As the train drew into the station we were greeted by the Rain Gods; big raindrops drumming on the coach roof. The rain in its fury put us into a good mood making us forget about the hour long delay and the train which badly needed to be improved, but of course the wonder of it - like the wonder of much else in India - is that it still reached its destination.
     From the corner seat in a railway car I could see much of the typical Indian life, as much of it is lived within sight of the tracks or the station and often next to the tracks or inside the station. I came to know more about the land, its sounds and smells and its people in their unchanging fascination. I hope that I will be able to undertake many such journeys in the future.

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JOURNEY (Sarbeswar Meher, 2nd Year)

Being overwhelmed with joy
In the flow of time
I look for my existence
To fulfill my desires
I adorn myself with the mirror of the past
Not known to me on which path
I am the voyager
My concern is to know only the goal
Being moulded by the ambience
I have reached this stage
Searching for the idol of endless thoughts
In the sea of my imagination
I become glazed
I get pleasure in her arrival
Last ambition in this journey is
to intermingle within the color
and ray of life’s rainbow

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TO MY TEACHER (Amrita Panda, 1st Year)

You taught me to read and write
And made my career bright

I bore the flowers
You fructified them

I had aspirations and dreams
You shaped them

I put in effort
You gave support

When I had nightmares
You took utmost care

When doubts had me mystified
You had them clarified

In making me climb the success ladder
You acted as a Godfather
Dear Teacher,
How can this soul ever repay you,
the love you imparted,
the confidence you instilled,
and the motto you gave to my aimless life?

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CHEMISTRY OF SHE-NISTIANS (Sarthak Ray, 2nd Year)

Occurrence: Found abundantly at a stone's throw from Palur hills.
Appearance: Looks fair, attractive and gorgeous under texture enhancing agents.
Color: May be white, may be black but becomes red when hot.
Odor: Emits natural smell unique to each of its kind, but is frequently masked by some artificial agents  collectively termed as cosmetics.
Magnetic Property: Attracted towards money, mind and muscles.
Melting Point: High. Can be brought down by catalysts like silly jokes, soft drinks, ice creams and other such treats.
Nature: Seems innocent, polite and gentle when observed from a distance.
Solubility: Highly miscible but obeys 'Like dissolves like'.
Effect on studies: Stimulant followed by depressant action.
Reactivity: Highly fatal. Must be handled under expert supervision.

HOLIDAY (Ashish Devta, 2nd Year)

My sweet dreams about girls
Usually finds a block
When the nightmare of trin-trin
Comes from the alarm clock
But today it continued until the girl
Slapped me in the dream
No alarm clock but I woke up
by my own scream

Ding dong in the big far wall clock
Alarming me it's 9 'O' clock
Wrapping the blanket I am still having bliss.
It quite obvious that the NIST bus
Will give me the miss

Yawning and stretching I gave my face a wash
I felt the surrounding was changed
Little unusual encompass
Today's sun
Is so agile and smart
Shining briskly from far apart
Something attractive in today's sky
Birds!
Those always make noise
Today singing tune full lullaby

It may not be an illusion or it may
Or some kind of witchery
As my granny used to say
Could be a mirage, made by the interfering ray
Or today may be an auspicious holy day
Oh… oh…
How can I forget today is our much-awaited holiday?
Hurray…
Put off the formal. Put on jeans
Speed up your bike. Let's go to the bay
Feel free, be ecstatic, have fun.
Never mind what others say
Leap into the world of music, movie and food
Turn yourself crazy, extrovert, insane.
Live the whole heaven today
Who knows…
When will be the next holiday?

FATHERING A PROGRAM (Roshan Kumar Ganatra, 3rd Year)

-Genesis 1:31

     I, a programmer, am the human interface to the modern world of intelligent machines. I am a lot more than the so-called technical wizard conversing with machines in a myriad of tongues. I am involved in a process of creation.
    
     It's just like being a father. Developing programs is like raising kids. I have to bring them up with love and affection. I have to put my heart and soul into their breeding lest they fall short of the perfection that is achievable.

      One cannot be a single father. Being a father and not just an ‘author’ of a program necessitates that I wholeheartedly accept, fall in love with and marry a programming language. I adore her, personify her in dreams and walk with her on the beach feeling the tumultuous waves both within and beyond me. An icy breeze sends chills of desperation down my spine while she, in a trice, faintly whispers, ‘its possible, we can do it…’ revitalizing me with ideas afresh and an approach anew. I feel her strength within me during times of anxiety. I live her.

     I have to have a firm set of guiding principles deep inside which I must try to incorporate into my programs too. They shall one day face the light of the day. They will meet people who will put them to all sorts of trials. I have to instill in them an image too intense as what will they cast shall be my reflection.

      Sometimes they will get unruly; sometimes they will misbehave. But, I don't have to blame them for, it is the potter within me who would have cast them from wet clay. If they fall apart, I didn't put enough strength into them . If they say ‘I can't do it’, I didn't teach them or put at their disposal, all the means of doing it. When they crash, I must not. When they yield, I must rebuild. Having found a fault in them should not be a cause of embarrassment, but that of a delightful satisfaction, as it would take me a step closer in making them evade failure.
     Times change, someday, they will need to change too. Someday the world will demand more from them. Someday they will need me again. I might not be there then, but my ideas will. These ideas would have penetrated the soul of my creations and kept them simple and pliable enough to let some noble potter of the future give them a better shape. As a father, my anticipations from such kids o f mine are titanic and I’ll achieve greatness when they’ll emulate my fatherhood.

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VISITING THE JUGGERNAUT (Ritwik Sanyal, 4th Year)

     The reasons for the trip were few but sufficient,plenty of free time andexcessive boredom. The motive behind the trip was to have full masti with minimum expenditure. I had Krishna with me. Daksh opted out, so it was left for just the two of us to do it. So, it was planned that we were to visit Lord Jagannath on 18th of December. On the scheduled day I woke up at 3:45 in the morning having had only three hours of sleep, I was just abou to have my bath when Krishna knocked. He had come to tell that he had been having stomach problems and might not be able to make the trip. Phew! What a way to start. I wasn't much disappointed as the prospect of getting back to bed was quite inviting. But that was not to be, one tablet (the only one left in the strip) from Nirmal's drawer solved the problem and we were off.

     The DMU that we took for Khurda was neither late nor crowded and so both of us could steal a short nap. The train left on scheduled time but it seemed to be a rather very long journey with the train halting at all little villages en route. We reached Khurda at 8:30 to find another train ready to leave for Puri (at least that is what we thought). So both of us rushed to that platform only to find that it was a false alarm. A brief enquiry at the counter revealed that the next train to Puri was scheduled to leave at 10 so we set off to explore Khurda. After a ten-minute walk, we discovered a South Indian restaurant. After a filling, yet inexpensive breakfast, we returned back to the station and in doing so we discovered an adventurous shortcut under a bridge followed by a steep climb to the tracks.

     Having reached Puri at 12 (one hour behind schedule)  e took a share auto-rickshaw straight to the temple. On the way, an unfortunate incident happened. As we were walking swiftly towards the temple, I accidentally hit a mirror hung on a pole by a roadside vendor and it fell to ground and broke. A short but heated argument followed which was settled after paying twenty rupees as compensation for the damage  done.Now in Hindu mythology breaking of glass is considered an ill omen. 

     I was more concerned about this rather than the loss of twenty rupees but soon I let it pass and we went straight to the temple after depositing our  shoes and the small bag (the only luggage for the trip) at a pay stall. The ‘darshan’ took just ten minutes as we rushed in maneuvering through umpteen dozen ‘panda’' all  directing us here and there but Krishna knew  the ways of  the temple. He had visited Puri just three months earlier, but for me it was a first time experience and I was enjoying every bit of it.

      Lord Jaggannath was seated in all his glory. We sent a silent prayer until we were forced out of the main ‘Durbar’, for a food offering ceremony was to take place. After the ‘darshan’ we took a round of the temple premises. I was fascinated by the sheer size of the temple. It was by far the biggest temple I had ever seen. A lot of sculpture work had been done on the red sandstone. The temple stood sixty feet above ground and looked magnificent against the cool winter sunlight. After admiring the temple for ten minutes or so, we went to buy some ‘prasad’ or ‘bhog’ as it is called there in the nearby shops which looked more like a fish market with everybody shouting at the top of their voices. We came out of the temple compound and collected our shoes and the bag. This completed the first half of our trip.

     Krishna entered a STD booth nearby, not to make a call but to pay two rupees for the call he had made from that place three months ago. Wow! Talk about good citizenship. Then we took another share auto-rickshaw straight to the bus stand where we got a bus for Konark, which left at 1:20. The one-hour journey to Konark was uneventful. We reached Konark at around 2:30 and went straight to the Sun temple, the only reason why people go there. The place was crowded with hordes of Bengalis. All of them seemed to have come in package tours from West Bengal in hi-tech travel buses. Such was the influence of the Bengali people there that the vendors and even the ticket counter man spoke in Bengali.

     The Sun temple was even bigger than my  imagination. I had seenso many photographs of it that it was unbelievable for me. I was standing in front of the real thing. The temple had been filled up from inside with stones in order to preserve it from collapsing. A lot of damage had been done to the temple, for instance, only one of the twenty-four wheels of the chariot shaped temple is intact. The visit to the temple, now a monument, was short but informative. On the way back, I bought a few decoration articles attracted more by their prices rather than the artwork. It was 3:15 by then and both of us were tired and hungry so we ordered for a 'Marwadi thali' at a nearby restaurant and immediately after the lunch we took a bus back to Puri.

     At around 5.30 in the evening, we reached the Puri bus stand. From then, we had two options. One was of saving money and catch the 6 o'clock DMU. The other  was to enjoy the marvelous Puri beach long with enchanting joy rides, including the giant wheel. Both the options were in one way or the other contradicting our motive of the trip. The first option meant restricting the total budget to Rs.150. The second option  eant increasing the budget by at least Rs. 200. The question is how did we remain faithful to our motive? I have already given the answer.    

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GO TO HELL (D. Ramakrishna, 2nd Year)

      An argument always wins you a ticket to hell ('go tohell!'). For years, great minds have been invariably pondering over questions relating to the existence of hell and heaven. Ultimately we have been successful only in getting thoroughly confused without reaching to any conclusions. So I thought I might be of some help to contribute my part towards this study, in a less philosophical approach though. First, we postulate that if souls   exist, then they must have some mass. If they do, then a mole of souls can also have a mass. So, at what rate are souls moving into hell and at what rate are souls leaving? I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for souls entering hell, lets look at the different religions that exist in the world today. Some   of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to hell. Since there are more than one of these religions and people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all people and all souls go to hell. With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in hell to increase exponentially.
       Now, we look at the rate of change in volume in hell. Boyle's Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in hell to stay the same, the ratio of the mass of souls and volume needs to stay constant.
      Case 1: If hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter hell, then the temperature and pressure in hell will increase until all hell breaks loose.

       Case 2: If hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until hell freezes over.

       So which is it? If I take into account the postulate given to me by miss X, during my first year "It will be a cold night in hell before I accept your proposal" and take into account the fact that I still have NOT succeeded in having her acceptance, then case 2 cannot be true.
        Thus, hell is exothermic.
        Heaven is hotter than hell: I have always wondered why people curse those with whom they have differences, mostly by dismissing them from their presence in this way; "may you go to hell after you die". Well I know that any reader would be wondering why I wonder about this fact. Hell is the place which serves any culprit right. But may be, I will be able to change the opinions of some minds, at least with this food of thought.

        The temperature of Heaven can be rather accurately computed. Our authority is Isaiah 30:26, "Moreover, the light of the Moon shall be as the light of the Sun and the light of the Sun shall be sevenfold, as the light of seven days." Thus Heaven receives from the Moon as much radiation as we do from the Sun, and in addition 7*7 (49) times as much as the Earth does from the Sun, or 50 times in all. The light we receive from the Moon is one 1/10,000 of the light we receive from the Sun, so we can ignore that ... The radiation falling on Heaven will heat it to the point where the heat lost by radiation is just equal to the heat received by radiation, i.e., Heaven loses 50 times as much heat as the Earth by radiation. Using the Stefan-Boltzmann law for radiation, (H/E) 4 = 50, where E is the absolute temperature of the earth (300K), gives  H as 798K (525oC). The exact temperature of Hell cannot be computed. However…Revelations 21:8 says "But the fearful, and unbelieving ... shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone." A lake of molten brimstone means that its temperature must be at or below the boiling point, 444.6oC. We have, then, that Heaven, at 525oC is hotter than Hell at 445oC.
        So may be, from now on, we would be speaking a new dialogue for cursing each other; "go to heaven! ".    

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WE ARE NISTIANS (Suresh Kumar Shadangi, 2nd Year)

TRUTH BEHIND US (Jimut Ranjan Sahoo, 4th Year)

FROM THE EDITOR’S DESK

Ravi P. Reddy

       This issue of the NISTian is the first Post November 22nd issue. Yes! The USA has its September 11th, we have our own November 22nd. Across the oceans, a country’s feeling of security was shattered, its citizens terrified and the honor of the country was besmirched. Here, a long tradition of discipline and nonviolence was shattered, its teachers terrorized and the name of the Institute dragged around the filthy columns of yellow journalism. I have this urge to go around distributing little pins saying "Remember November 22nd". We are in a kind of mourning, a deep rooted feeling of loss pervades my mind.

      Many a NISTian has asked me – "What happened to WAVES this year?" My reply has been – "We are in mourning and there can be no celebrations in the middle of such mourning."

        In the middle of all this, I was one reluctant editor being coaxed, cajoled and persuaded by Roshan and Naveen with an occasional reminder from Manaswini Madam (our unofficial editor of The NISTian!). Added to this was the fact that I switched hard disks twice on my systems, I could not locate the format file for  NISTian, and …(many other excuses).

       Today, when I began writing this piece as the final act of editing before this issue goes to press, I was in a real dilemma – to bring up and discuss the harsh ugliness of the past few months OR to ignore it and talk about some beautiful trivialities. I chose the former because if we do not learn from history, we shall never be any wiser. And after the heavy price we have paid for the  bitter experience, the least we can gain from it is a little bit of wisdom. Here are the things which I observed in all this mess.

        #1 – Popular belief does not define truth. Getting trapped in our own islands of misinformation can be dangerous. Many a student of the 1998 batch has told me – "I believed this to be true and I based my actions on this." "How did you know it is true?" "Because all my friends believe it to be true." "Any one apart from your friends and classmates?" "I have not bothered to ask because WE KNOW." When conjectures become truths, rumors become the gospel and hypotheses become laws – insanity is bound to prevail. We must talk to other people who belong to another group, preferably the "opposition" group, to get another perspective on the issues and to gather more facts. And all this before we convert our misinformation into misguided actions.
      
        #2 – Nonviolence is NOT for the weak. Violence is the preferred weapon of the weak. Countless are the students who have told me – "Sir! We didn’t mean anything bad. We love NIST! It was supposed to be a small nonviolent protest and how it all became so violent, we don’t know!" Nonviolence is not for the weak of heart, the immoral and the fluffy brained! The reason Mahatma Gandhi commands the reverence of the world was not simply because he preached   non-violence, but because he had the strength to practice it in the most trying of situations. And he never qualified nonviolence to include "just a little bit of violence"! (We were only trying to frighten the teachers into accepting our demands!!!) When Chauri-Chaura happened he called off one of the most successful boycotts of the British government – one that had almost paralyzed the British. To him the principle of nonviolence was more important than the popular goal of ousting the British.
      
       #3 – There EXIST dead-ends in this world. There exist problems in this world with no solutions. My youthful friends - encouraged by the world of textbook solutions to textbook problems, fired by their utopian visions of youthful imagination and revved up by various inputs from filmi sources - believe that every problem MUST have a solution. Welcome to the harsh realities of life where the unsolvable problems outnumber the solvable ones by about a hundred to one ratio (a very optimistic estimate- believe me!). You WILL meet blind alleys ending in a wall. You have two options – repeatedly bang your head against the wall trying to find a way through it OR turn back and explore other, more fruitful alleys.

       #4 – Protests will ALWAYS succeed. But only if they are based on sound moral values and only if they succeed in gathering popular support because of their moral nature. Before trying to bring about any historical change through protest, find out if it is something the others are interested in. A handful of Chinese students stood in Tiananmen square to bring down the Chinese government but they only crushed by the tanks as they had no popular support.

       #5 – Tolerance is not weakness. Sensitivity is not weakness. I am reminded of a line from a Hindi poem which I studied at school – kshama shobhati us bhujanga ko jiske pass garal ho- forgiveness befits only the mighty serpent that has venom (I think it was by Maithilisharan Gupt). So, when you see a group of people who are sensitive to your needs and aregoing out of their way to help you, do not think of it as weakness and make no attempt to exploit them.

        #6 – The brain should rule over the heart. "Sir, our emotions were so deeply hurt that we could not withdraw." I will grieve for the facts of dead people and dead dreams. I will grieve even for the violence denoted by shattered window panes but emotions? There are  too many real problems in the world which take priority over   your emotional problems. What my friends mistakenly call their emotions is usually only an oversized ego being slightly bruised by the hard knocks of life. And whenever you let your emotions gain control on you and your rationality, you regress back to a primeval creature who has no sense of right and wrong, you revert back to the laws of the jungle. And no civilized society will tolerate such behavior in its midst. So, it is best to keep your senses and emotions in control as the Bhagvad Gita preaches.

        After saying all that, am I angry? No, I am only sad. Sad for the opportunities lost and the time wasted, for the bonds broken and trust betrayed. But, as I am usually accused by friends, I cannot help being an Pollyannaesque optimist. Everything will be all right – as Polyanna would say. I am sure that the NIST family has the moral fiber and the mental strength to regroup, reorganize its strengths and march forward into the future towards its unwavering goals of QUALITY EDUCATION AND DISCIPLINE.  

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