Ragging : Illogical & Illegal...

Just the other day I was involved in an animated discussion about the practice of ragging in educational institutes in India. Though I had written on this topic a long time back, the contents of the discussion forced me to write about it again.

What amazes me is the support to the menace called ragging by those who themselves underwent the trauma while in college. During the above mentioned discussion, there were several points put forward in the favor of ragging. I will thus dissect each of them one by one.

Ragging is a means to ‘break the ice’ between the new-comers and their seniors.

Now, why does meeting someone new and getting friendly with them requires one to perform certain acts (even like singing and dancing) ? When you meet a stranger at a party, you don’t ask him or her to sing or dance for you to get friendly. What it simply requires is a shake of hands and some decent and nice talking to know one another.

And even if one accepts this theory of ‘introduction’ to be true, why is it only the new-comer who has to perform for the senior ? Why not the other way round ? The basic logic is that, to be friendly, all that is needed is a decent conversation of introduction. And it is required both ways, not just by any juniors.

Ragging teaches the juniors to respect their seniors.

Respect ?!?! A human being should respect every other human being and even animals and plants. And special respect towards someone comes through admiration, not through fear.

A person is respected not because of merely his or her knowledge, intelligence or even experience but because of his or her wiseness. And how can a so-called ‘senior’ by virtue of entering an institute before a junior be entitled to respect ? Isn’t it absolutely absurd to expect respect from someone just because you got admitted to an institute before them ?

Ragging teaches the new-comers to be disciplined and get accustomed to the rules of the institute.

Another absurdity ! How can something disgraceful and illegal be a tool to inculcate discipline ? Moreover, if a person could not be disciplined through twelve years of schooling, how can he or she be disciplined by ragging ?

Also, if that were true, all those ‘seniors’ who harass their ‘juniors’ should have themselves been disciplined after they themselves were ragged as new-comers.

Ragging creates a bond between the ‘seniors’ and ‘juniors’ after which, the ‘seniors’ help the ‘juniors’ with their studies and their life in the institute.

I fail to understand how someone can bond with a person who abuses and harasses him. As for the several benefits the ‘juniors’ keep in mind while tolerating the harassment, isn’t it something ridiculous to think that a person would harass someone in order to help them later ? A helpful person would help others irrespective of their being ‘junior’ or ‘senior’ to them. Doesn’t this signify that the ‘seniors’ need to be pleased in their pervert acts in order to expect help from them ?

And how can any benefit be greater than one’s self respect. Are people so vary of doing their own work or studies that they depend on some pre-cooked benefits from their ‘seniors’ ? My batch at college didn’t have any ‘seniors’ (as we were the first batch) but still we got through with our studies and life at college without any problems.

Ragging helps to build confidence in new-comers to face a tough professional life in the future.

How abuse, degradation, humiliation, harassment and torture can build someone’s confidence is something that is beyond my imagination. This is one of the lousiest excuses put forth in favor of ragging. In fact, the menace of ragging is an evidence of the perverseness and sick mindset prevalent in our society.

As far as logic and psychology goes, ragging cannot be anything as per the above arguments. My take on it can be summarized as follows.

1. Ragging presents itself as an opportunity to those individuals who never find anything about them to be appreciated by others (and hence, live in severe inferiority complex) to portray a false sense of superiority and an ego boost.
2. Why should a whole batch of new-comers be collectively afraid of a bunch of so-called ‘seniors’ ? Yes, it is usually a handful of people from every batch who indulge in ragging.
3. If one is confident of his or her own abilities, they don’t need to depend on any sort of help from any ‘senior’ that too in exchange of their self respect.
4. No ‘senior’ has any moral or legal right to exert their superiority on a ‘junior’ in order to treat them as their personal slaves.
5. Why can’t people be helpful and friendly irrespective of the other person being a ‘junior’ or a ‘senior’ ?
6. Ragging is, in fact, an outlet of the hidden perverseness in certain people which they take out on diffident and scared new-comers.
7. Instead of any benefits, ragging corrupts fresh minds by forcing them to indulge in activities which are not fit for any civilized society.

I hope this menace is weeded out from the society as soon as possible.

You can read my earlier post on the menace of ragging here.

Image courtesy : Google Images

My Lacertilian Adventures...

Summer is here !

Though different people have different preferences for their favorite season, my Mom isn’t particularly fond of summers. That is so, because the scorching heat of the sun drives everyone inside their homes, while the same heat seems to drive lizards out of theirs. During various hours of the day my Mom can be found jumping, screaming and running around at the sight of a lizard while I can be found shooing off lizards of all sizes out of the house for her.

In spite of my repeated attempts Mom refuses to accept my views regarding lizards being sober and harmless creatures. On the contrary, she warns me to have me sent to a mental asylum whenever she notices me trying to train and befriend the lizard which lives below our refrigerator.

My views about lizards, though appearing to be eccentric, are not entirely hypothetical. I found out the usefulness which a lizard can be capable of during my Medical college days.

There used to be a famous annual fair in the city for an entire month or so that used to start in the evening and carried on all through the night. During one of our visits to the fair I found a guy on a pavement, selling fake replicas of animals. I was specially impressed by the replicas of lizards he had. So, finally giving in to my temptation, I bought a fake lizard which looked completely alive until one actually touched it. (which wasn’t something anyone would do if it really looked real ! :P )

I didn’t actually know what to do with it until two days later I saw a probable use. One of my batch mates, who lived in our hostel, was a very naughty fellow. He was short, stout, extremely fair complexioned and a fashion-freak. But he had a huge weakness. Lizards ! The mere mention of the word could make his spine tingle.

Everyday, he used to come up to my room and knock at the door. He used to do that mostly at hours when I was asleep. While I used to groggily open the door, he would quickly hit the electricity switches beside the door, shut the fan, switch on the lights, grin mischievously, and run away laughing.

So, this very day, while I was inspecting the brilliant replica of the fake lizard I had bought, I got an idea. I placed the lizard strategically on the electricity board so that it just spanned the entire row of switches. As expected, the naughty guy came up to my room expecting me to be asleep while I was wide awake waiting for him.

I opened the door a bit more than usual after the knock, and saw his grinning face as he looked at me while hitting the switches. In an instant, he felt something was different. As he looked at the electric board and removed his hand, the strategically placed lizard fell down just as a real lizard would have fallen.

I have heard about how people pale when they are scared. And I never thought a person of such fair complexion could pale any further. But pale he did. And that too in a fraction of milliseconds. I wonder if you can imagine a person trying to swim, kick a football and do a high-jump back-flip all together. But I was treated to witness such a spectacle as he did all that and maybe even more which was beyond my comprehension. And as soon as he returned to the ground, he made a dash for somewhere as far possible as could be from my room. And for the next fifteen minutes or so, the inhabitants of our hostel heard the most spine-chilling shrieks till this guy found a way to make a dash for the open spaces outside the building.

I had become a big fan of my ‘pet lizard’. :-)

A few days later, our small batch of fifteen students was trying to survive a class of evening clinical teaching by a junior resident who seemed to have found the truth about ‘Irritable Bowel Syndrome’ and was bent on imparting the divine knowledge on to us highly uninterested disciples.

I was seated in the second row of chairs while the first row was occupied by most of the girls. The resident was seated opposite to us with just a small table separating us. I thought it a good idea to bring some life into the proceedings when I saw my immediate neighbor borrowing a pen from the girl sitting right in front of me. This caught my attention as I was particularly fond of her. :D

I noticed that she had one of those small purse-like pencil cases in which she used to keep about fifty assorted pens and pencils. As she had handed the entire case to my neighbor to pick out his choice of pen, I quickly reached into my bag for my ‘pet’. I quickly took the case from him, and as he watched on, I strategically placed the fake lizard below a stack of a dozen pens. I zipped it up and told him to return it back to her.

After a few minutes, I asked my neighbor to ask her for a particular colored pen again. And as per my expectations, she decided to find it herself this time. I watched intently as she unzipped the case and dug in to find the desired pen. The only sounds in the room were the incomprehensible blabber of the resident, the ticking of the clock and the heart-beat of my neighbor.

It is strange how sometimes we never learn from experience. Just a couple of days back I had seen a guy freak out as never before, but here I was again, trying something similar in much dangerous circumstances.

And the next moment, there was a loud gasp. I wonder if you have ever heard a gasp. But everyone there did hear it. Which was instantly followed by a colored assortment of pens and pencils flying high up in the air. A couple of them landed on the resident’s head making him shut his mouth and bring an end to the ‘discourse’. While my neighbor got the desired colored pen which actually fell onto his lap.

The resident took off his spectacles and glared at her for an explanation as she tried to catch her breath and told him about a lizard in her pencil-case. The resident merely commented on her brisk reflexes and her ultra-sensitivity towards members of the reptile family and finally announced the dismissal of the class.

As soon as the initial shock subsided, the girl looked back to have my neighbor for an early dinner through her eyes. But he still had the courage to point a shaking finger towards me. The case was immediately settled as she realized that the devil mind behind the adventure was none other than mine, and she turned away and started to collect the contents of her pencil-case.

Though she knew it was a fake lizard, but no one else in the room could find out as I had noticed the lizard falling just beside her chair and which was now safely hidden below my shoe.

Though I never brought this up with her after that, but I take this opportunity here to say a little sorry with a smile. :-)

Ohhh… I just heard Mom scream and call out for me. So I’m off to lizard-shooing business again. Now… where’s the broom gone…….

(Image courtesy : Google Images)

Birthday Bashings...

The other day I called up my friend to wish him a happy birthday. The pleasantries having been delivered, I ended the call not before he had promised me a nice big dinner in the near future. Of course, it couldn’t be managed that very evening owing to the fact of those 500 something kilometers that separated us.

I was still fancying about the prospects of that future dinner treat when I found myself going back in the past to relive some of the birthday parties I had been part of.

Back in the times of good old school days, birthday parties were eagerly anticipated events. The usual course of events being, a small treat at the school canteen for all classmates, followed by the main event at the “B’Day person’s’ house. The usual games, the dance (of which I was never a part), cutting of the cake and then the mouth watering food.

But things have changed drastically with time.

I was witness to these changes quite often during my college days. Any person who has spent some part of his or her life in a hostel (or for that matter, living away from home with mates) wouldn’t be a stranger to what I’m talking about.

As per my experiences in college, a birthday was nothing short of a catastrophe, a calamity that had to be faced once every year. People take birthdays to be a sort of "PAYBACK DAY". Giving vent to all their emotions for the 'B’Day guy'.

I remember one of such experiences on the birthday of my batch mate who lived in the room opposite to mine. It was the night before his birthday. It was all peace and calm in the hostel. But only till the clock struck 12. And suddenly people started to appear from all corners and converged to the door opposite mine. Just as suddenly as a large population of ants, appear out of nowhere and converge at a point, when the word is out that a fresh source of sweets is there for the taking.

The poor guy answered the knocks on his door (well, not really knocks but thumps which would bring the door down if not answered pretty quickly) with a smile. It was a smile, but one which, I guess would be on the face of some prisoner of war just as he gets ready to be taken to the gallows.

The ceremony started with the nearest of friends giving him hugs. But somewhere in the middle of the second hug, he simply vanished. And the next moment he was dangling in mid-air. Some people grabbed his wrists and the others grabbed his ankles. While all the others rushed to get the best strategic position around him.

And then they began to hurl him up into the air and down again. Just as I had seen some washer men do to dry some big piece of cloth while at the pond. The so called ‘birthday bumps’ which are considered to be the ritual without which no birthday is considered complete….

The total number of bumps corresponded to the number of birthdays the guy had celebrated. But what shocked me was that with each heave, all the people standing around him, kicked his back with all their might. Some clever ones had even come prepared with thick-soled boots for that very purpose. And with each kick, his cries of agony drowned in the shouts of the people whose mercy he was at.

According to his age, 20 something bumps were what he was to be subjected to. But as they counted 22 or 23, someone shouted that they had missed the correct count…. And that it had to be started again. That was when I had to intervene. Thankfully, for the guy, they let him down on the floor, wincing in pain, but still managing a smile. He had to smile. After all, it was his birthday…

Then someone got a rather innovative idea. He went and fetched a bucket full of water. And as expected (unexpected for me), the contents of that bucket were emptied on the birthday-boy who was still lying on the floor trying to feel for his back. Maybe that was a well meant idea to relieve some of his pain. But I didn’t really believe that pouring cold water on a beaten up guy past midnight was an act intended to alleviate his pain.

They even had a good mind to cover him up with a blanket or sheet and let go at him once again. But I don’t know what made them have mercy on the poor guy.

This was and is not an isolated incident. Birthdays, today, are ‘celebrated’ on these very lines and sometimes on even worse ones. But I’m really at a loss to understand the fun behind it all. Ok, if you need to take out your hard feelings on someone, you have all of the 364 days of the year to do that. Why not leave that one day for him or her to enjoy in the true sense.

Is it just because on the birthday, the ‘B’Day’ guy or girl has to accept whatever behavior that is meted out by the so called friends as a gesture of good wishes ? Come on…. Since when did you need to kick a person black and blue to wish him your good wishes ??

I guess this is a case of give and take. The very person being kicked on his birthday tolerates the torture maybe because surely before the next 365 days, he would get a chance to ‘Payback’ all of it to all his friends on their birthdays. But still I cannot get myself to reason with this madness.

Another aspect which makes me go crazy is the ‘Birthday Cake’. Isn’t the cake there to be decorated, cut and then eaten ? They decorate and cut it alright. But what happens about the eating bit ?? I simply fail to understand the fun behind smudging the face of the ‘B’Day guy’ with the cake. Well, if it is that funny, why not get one of those dummy cakes they have in movies which they throw at each other’s faces.

I don’t know if chocolate or vanilla cakes taste even better when applied to the face rather than let the tongue do the tasting. The scenes which I have witnessed regarding the fates of birthday cakes have led to my sufficient dislike to them.

Gone are the days when we had good clean fun and enjoyment along with the yummiest of food on birthdays. Now, birthdays are celebrated in strange ways. And strangely enough, people tend to like them too.

Thankfully for me, I never had the experience to ‘celebrate’ my birthday at the hostel. I know someone people would say that I've missed a great experience. But personally, I would rather give it a miss....

And never did I taste my birthday cake through my face. But it’s a ritual that has spread all around now. As the picture below suggests….