Big Babies Don't Cry

I commonly hear people complain about babies aboard airplanes. Apparently, these babies cry a lot, and often very loudly and incessantly. Passengers around them often do not take to this too kindly. I completely hear this grouse. Babies need to understand as part of this democracy their obligation towards respecting the needs of their fellow citizens. The fundamental duties, the other side of the coin to fundamental rights, are firmly embossed in the Indian Constitution, on paper. Infants are free to take a look, comprehend and absorb what these doctrines mean. Because if they do not spruce up themselves, some ingenious adults have already begun offering radical solutions to the menace, such as banning young mothers and their bubs from air travel, or more interestingly, drugging babies to sleep during the length of a flight. As I am not entirely in agreement with these solutions, I hereby offer some of my own.
They can try the "mind over matter" mantra, for instance. Flipping through the pages of any self-help book such as "How To Stop Worrying and Start Living", "You Can Win", and "Stop Crying You Sissy", babies will soon learn that physical discomfort is a mere state of mind. Instead of crying over it, they should consider engaging in activities that can take their minds off the pain: look out of the window, sing a Beatles song, or share with your parents your opinion of who should form the next government. If they are into television, which By Jove they would be, they can also try Baba Ramdev's breathing exercises as a combative tool against pain.
If babies refuse to take matters into their own hands, why do mothers not administer some medicine to them right before they board the flight? Mothers often argue it is often difficult to gauge what exactly is bothering the child. This is seriously not acceptable. These infants need to be exposed to some organizational behaviour handbooks at an early age to amply acquaint them with the concept and benefits of transparent and open communication. Nip the problem in the bud. Speak up about issues that afflict you. Proactive problem solving skills, hello! Mothers, on their part, need to encourage an open door policy with their babies, whereby they can freely bring pertinent matters of trouble on the table, that can be negotiated to closure by way of peaceful dialogue.
But please, babies, stop crying. These are early years of your lives. What do you know of worldly problems anyway? I am not sure you are aware of what your co-passenger's day has been like. But let us take merely his escapades at the airport, right before boarding this flight, just to give you a fair idea. He has been taken by surprise by the large queues at the airport which he has never known about before, which is why they were not accounted for in his schedule. Resultantly, he has per force had to stick parasitically to the person ahead of him in the queue in the hope that he can make his way a little faster. When that failed to work, he has also had to vent out his frustration on the airline staff by calling them incompetent mutts who can't get him on to his plane soon enough. With the plane in sight, finally, the poor chap has had to push and jostle his way through the aisle of the plane, because if he does not hurry up, the plane might take off with one of his feet still placed on the tarmac.
After all these hassles, little babies, your co-passenger is looking for some peace of mind. And all he expects from you is that you follow the model code of behaviour which requires you to maintain silence in the aircraft. As responsible citizens, it is imperative that you understand his needs and comply. At any rate, like I said, they are at their wits' end and the solutions they propose to counter your noise might only make you more upset.

Watch Out, We Are Engineers

[Picture Courtesy: Hindustan Times]

An engineering student jumped into a tigers' enclosure in a Gwalior zoo this Monday. Taking off his shirt, he then entertained a pair of tigers with a private dance. This youth has been identified as a representative of a million other engineers like him who are in a constant need to remind everyone they inhabit a world outside of Is-this-Mohr's Circle-nonsense-in-the-syllabus. To many others, this might be seen as either a desperate attempt at seeking attention, or a random act of buffoonery. But we engineers know this is but just another manifestation of our keen sense of adventure that we carefully nourish over a period of four years - unless you are given seemingly polite monikers like ATKT ka Raja, in which case years cease to be anything more than a mere integer.
Contrary to popular belief, daredevilry comes easy to the common engineer. This is more commonly known in engineering parlance as "Enter the canteen." Let's get real. It was no miracle that our friend escaped unscathed after spending close to forty minutes before those tigers, apparently called Luv and Kush. This is what had really transpired after the engineer accosted them:

Tiger Luv - "Hey look, chunky food is here. *slurp*"
[The beasts advance towards an unsuspecting engineer]
Tiger Kush - "Wait. Why do I smell watery spinach?"
Tiger Luv - "He must be an engineer. I have heard tales of their canteens. Umm, not hungry any more."
Tiger Kush - "Ditto. Much ado about nothing, hmmpf. Let's just watch him dance...oh, no!"

Of course, facing two tigers is a formidable prospect. But then our engineering friend has been through more. VIVAS, for example. You can pronounce it the way you like, but this word never sounds pleasant. What happens inside a VIVA hall doesn't feel any better either. Imagine lining up in groups of three, anxiously awaiting your turn to get exposed as the chap who landed this course only because, well, "Papa told me." To make matters worse, every group will ask the preceding group "Hey, what were you asked?" only to find out that the professor would never repeat his questions. And God forbid, if you are one of those Smart Alecs who hummed their way through all lab sessions, because, "Hehe, group work," you have so had it when a surprise announcement in the finals states that every student will perform his experiment individually. As our professor once said, "Lab work is team work. It is not some pooja that one person will hold the pooja thali and the others will just touch his elbow."

The engineer doesn't have it easy outside the college premises either. For a new challenge is lurking somewhere round the corner. We call it SOCIALIZING. Consider this: the poor fellow is sitting at home during a study break. The parents have to attend a social do. The engineer contemplates an evening all to himself - some quality "me" time before his laptop. News suddenly pours in that the hosts have learnt the engineer exists and that the parents must totally bring him along. Dragged to the dinner with an assurance that "We just have to eat and come back, beta", he is now strolling around the party lawns, probably examining the lights and wondering what diodes lie behind them. Other guests accost him, prodding him to make conversation.

"So, nice party, eh?"
"Meh."
"So what are your hobbies?"
"I am an engineer. My hobbies are writing tutorials, online chatting and..."
"Come, let's get some dinner."

If the conversation is with a girl, the conversation begins and ends somewhere around "Hi I am an engineer baby are you receiving the signals being sent from the transducer of my heart."

Everyone went about asking what happened to the engineer finally inside that enclosure? It is absurd that nobody bothered finding out what happened to those tigers after spending forty minutes with him. Rumour has it the engineer had not slept in four days. With the overwhelming burden of an entire society on his shoulders, it was gracious of the engineer to afford them a little dance. My message is to the tigers: when you are met with an opportunity as rare as this, sit back and behave yourselves. You are lucky to have got an audience. You are not going to see him again until the next semester.