ASSIGNMENTS of 2009

(Inspired By Summer of 69, By Bryan Adams…..)
I got my first real assignment,
Got it with a real close deadline,
Worked at it till my group got mad,
Was the assignment of 2009.

Me and people from the class,
Had grouped and worked real hard,
Some quit, some got frustrated,
Always knew we never made a start,
Oh, when I look back now,
The assignment seems to last forever…
Boy, if I had the choice, I would have never had it completed,
Those were the dread days of my life….
Those assignments of 2009…..

Ain’t no use in complaining,
When you’ve got a submission to do,
Spend my time fighting the deadlines,.. oh COCO that’s when I met you!!..
Standing in the GW room, You told me that it will be postponed for ever..
And when I saw your cynical smile, I knew that it was now or never…

Those were the dread days of my life…
Those assignments of 2009..

Man we were killing time,
We were chatting and playing, and having a great time..
I guess that assignment will be forgotten forever.. forever.. forever… yeah!!

And now the times are changing,
look at everything that’s come and gone,
But when I remember those assignments,
think about it wonder what went wrong.

Standing near the GW room,
I Felt that they would last forever,
Boy as if I had a choice, I knew the submissions was now or never..
Those were the BEST days of life…

Those assignments of 2009….

-GUNJAN

PGDM- 2008-10 ( Finance )

The Celebration That Was…

It was August 15, the Year 08,
The anniversary of India’s Birth Date.
The SPJIMR family came,
Together to salute India, the lovely dame.
The occasion began as tradition told,
The national flag on the staff unfurled.
Respect writ in the masses’ face,
As the national anthem took its pace.
Proud Indians renewed their pledge to serve,
Their motherland in all its verve.
Post this there was a cultural fest,
Where SP’s students proved to be the best.
Adi and Supriya led the show,
While talent came forward in a beautiful flow.
The freedom struggle came to life,
When dancers depicted peace and strife.
United India in harmony sang,
“Mile Sur”! Oh with what joy our voices rang.
A thespian treat thrilled every sense,
India viewed through a 61 year old lens.
Enthralling was the story told,
By actors from the SPJIMR fold.
‘Vande Mataram’ was the culmination of it all,
And on this lovely note, the curtains did fall.
And in store was a lovely treat,To bistro, we all went to eat

-Reshmi Mathew

Anandwan- the abode of joy

When you hurt your knee, did you remember that old man by the lane with one foot? When you threw an old rotten fruit into the bin, did you realize there was someone out there whose limbs were being cut and thrown coz they were rotten too. When you sang for your picture perfect partner, did you realize that there are thousands who have been painted in haste? Yes, there is a world other than the perfect one etched out for you. There is a world that believes in carving out the best from what has been given to them. This little world, set out to make the impossible possible, taking the deaf and dumb, the blind and less fortunate along in the march, is a small abode of happiness we happened to take a peek into. It is Anandwan – the abode of joy.

Year after year, Anandwan has been inviting the students of SPJain, silently though, through the special bonding both the organizations fondly share. When PGDM batch of 2008 set out on a 20 hour journey, little did they know that they would bathe in bliss on reaching this little town. Anandvan is a noble initiative, started by Baba Amte, to treat and rehabilitate leprosy victims from the disadvantaged sections of society. Today it is not just a shelter for these patients, but serves the livelihood of 3500 people, serving the blind, deaf and dumb. It is a self-sufficient village with people engaged in more than 100 different occupations. All they need from outside is oil, petrol, salt and sugar. It’s only after this visit we realized how handicapped we were.

When our bus entered the Ashram, the first thing that struck us was the peace and serenity of the place. We could hear the chirping of birds, watch people busy at work, catch students of a nearby school hopping around, cattle grazing – there was rhythm in every action. We grabbed a quick yummy lunch and were ready to travel another 3 hours to talk to Dr. Vikas Amte, a man who calls himself the jailor of the prison called Anandwan. As we passed through the open fields, we could witness the sun setting behind us and a new spark dawning in our hearts. Dr. Vikas Amte, a man of grit and vigour, might not be too refined in his talk, but it’s his heart you connect to when he speaks with such passion about his work. Here is a man who lives in a remote village in Yawatmal with a “Land Army “ of 100 people to save their own people. They have set out to stop the suicide of farmers, provide irrigation by building dams and through rain harvesting. Now we know there are people who crib and here are people who act. We received a cordial welcome with delicious poha and steaming tea while Dr. Vikas spoke about his father and family, their journey till date, the innumerable obstacles they faced, the initiatives they have undertaken and how successful they have been in their endeavours. He displayed various products made by the people of Anandwan. There was truth in his talk, confidence in his walk and passion in the future he wished to chalk out for India and her people. When he left us or rather when we left him, we knew that our society needs many such people and we could be one among them. We had dinner and went back to our dormitories. Anandwan had taken care of every minute detail of our stay. We felt grateful to them.

We woke up the next day to walk around Anandwan and witness the miracle they have built over years. A group of us took a stroll by the nearby lake, a walk which we can never forget. The scenic beauty was breathtaking. We walked across a school where students were melodiously singing ‘itni shakti hame dena data, manka vishwaas kamzor na ho’. It meant a lot and we could relate to the context very well. Groups of villagers passing by greeted us with a warm smile, talking to each other with sign languages, carrying those who could not walk and leading those who could not watch the road ahead. It was extremely heartening. Then we were guided through the different occupations that are done there. We witnessed footwear being made of tyres, x-ray sheet flowers, beautiful greeting cards out of twigs and husk, jute bags, huge machines weaving clothes, artistic wall hangings made of mint covers and many more. The artisans were so skilled that it took us a few seconds to realize that people who were sewing were blind, cards were being made with the help of toes, nails were being hammered with precision despite not being able to see anything. How many of us are deaf, dumb and blind towards the job at hand? Here was a lesson to learn.

The real big thing was yet to come. We were told that there was an orchestra of performers awaiting us to make our stay memorable. This one was mind blowing. You can even list it as one of the wonders of the world. This troupe of handicapped people has been keeping anandwan running for the past 6 years earning crores for it. A couple of songs and the audience contributed a staggering 16k rupees to Anandwan’s kitty. That is good enough to say how captivated they were with the performance. Voices as sweet as nectar, steps as perfect as on screen and a narration that strung them as that of the beads of a necklace, made it look elegant and beautiful.

When we wound up for our journey back, our backpacks seemed heavier. We now knew the responsibilities we carry as we sketch the future of an emerging india and the worlds we have to take along with us to have a complete inclusive growth. We also realized that all of them whom we term as disabled are just ‘differently-abled’. They do not seek pity, but an opportunity to live, just like you and me or as Dr. Amte subtly frames it - All they need is a chance, not charity.

-Nagashree Natarajan

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