so then, thats it, thats the end of my stay at manipal, the end of my course at mit, and the end of the best 2yrs of my life.
i gotta thank my mum, it was she who sent me for the course. i was reluctant but i did join and looking back, i must've been an ass to not join!
I had no clue what to expect on the first day in class and the weird happenings began right then and there. a tall boy came n introduced himself, saying he's a part time lecturer, meaning he's going to be a classmate of ours for a few subjects. Fellow's a bloody good buddy now. ;-)
there's been lots of fun n laughter in the past two yrs, a lot of mimicry from my3, n a lot of broken hindi n english from amitabh, lots of alcohol gyaan from darshan, lots of gear shifting gyan from ashwat, super methods of weight reduction from sanath n super methods of gaining weight from su, amazing pjs from sameer n a lot of hollering from pramod, tons of misplaced keys from pad sir n tons of found keys from tall boy.
Thats the best part of being a student, the knowledge might stay or go but the memories stay. I leave with a heart full of happy memories as well as some sad ones, some goals fulfilled n some remaining untouched, but i leave richer with a whole bunch of friends, friends who wont be far from the mind ever. And if any of you buggers think of asking me for a treat, i'm gonna slap u. :-)
a great big hug, and cheers.
special mentions:-
pinty (nattunaya, i can never get enough of fighting with you)
murali, karthik [for his PPTs :D]
sanya[googly woogly wooksh] and smitha[haircut]
sunitha aunty and padma... the only decent girl in class :)
and finally, vadapav maam!
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Sunday, September 12, 2010
questions!
What is growth? What is success? How is wealth measured? These are questions asked maybe for the ten millionth time worldwide, but I ask this since I do not have the answers. Going from a small house bustling with laughter and activities, flooded with emotions, to a huge vast house, which is empty, silent and limited to a few specific purposes; is that growth? Visiting the city’s largest mall and being recognised by the owner, being known to half the city, but being unable to help your daughter with her homework, being too busy to know that your wife craves for just half an hour alone with you, being too involved in work to have dinner at the proper time; is that success? There are so many stories where kids and relatives of multi millionaires met with gruesome deaths for various reasons, and all their monies couldn’t do anything but accumulate interests in the world’s biggest banks. That money is wealth? I have been called a lunatic for these kinds of thoughts, and it has happened often, but somehow these questions never leave me. The purpose of life to me doesn’t seem just to live looking at a retirement with lots of luxuries; it seems to be for me, is to be amongst loved ones and to go to bed at night with a smile on the face; to wake up and see faces of loved ones till the last day. Even in death, being surrounded by people who are sad to see me go seems to have more sense that to have lived a life where people wait for my death – to rid me of my sufferings of an ailment or to have my belongings split equally – since I am after all, a lunatic! ;)
Privileges...
I cannot thank enough my friends from PK’s group who introduced me to Bhagini Samaj. It matters not what it is to be called, for each time I go there I am flooded with emotions and thoughts of various kinds. It becomes inevitable to introspect and I find myself so highly privileged in life. Everything seems to be a luxury. The last time that we went, there was a couple that had come there with PAV BHAJI for all the kids there and my friends Prajna, Greeshma and Shreeshma served them. It was a cute thing to see. Each time that I am there, I feel so moved. It was for us, ‘after all PAV BHAJI’ whereas for them it was a special occasion. It was a bonus that rarely comes, which they find so irresistible that they stealthily dip their fingers into and taste, before saying their prayers. I have never been hungry and yet I have never prayed before eating anything, and they have never eaten anything without praying. For me, my camera is now a part of me; something commonplace. Being in a photo is so irrelevant that it totally slips off my mind [my mum always scolds me for that! :) ]. But for them it is a privilege, an achievement to be photographed. Just looking at themselves in various poses gives them a joy that I have would I feel if maybe I won a million dollars. The new umbrellas that a family gave them were nothing short of a treasure! Most of them were reluctant to open them so that it would remain new for as long as possible. And here I am, always cribbing and complaining. I have so much in life, yet it feels like it isn’t enough. There is a major contrast in life... there is a major contrast in the lives that I saw, and in the life that I dream of. All I can do is write about it, and pray for them. I hope the guilt sort of feeling soon dispenses. I do not believe I am strong enough to keep them in mind nor motivated enough to strive for their betterment. What I do is temporary and tiny... :(
May God forgive me and share my blessings with them too.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
my ajja strongest
i was working on my laptop today, reading a pdf when grandpa came and asked me if the magazine i was reading was good. i said yes. he went and sat back only to reappear with the same question in less than five minutes. i repeated my answer. the next time he asked me what my name was. i felt a bit bad. not offended, not disturbed; i felt bad... for him.
he was born in the same year as che guevara, 1928. yet, thanks be to the almighty he's never had any physical health issues for 81years. only after that did his blood sugar levels increase a bit which my grandma brought down within a month through a wonderfully strict diet. even now my grandpa can read without spectacles and hear without a problem. he still speaks in english at times and he still inspires me.
without a sense of self decoration, i can safely say that my english is good enough and the reason for this, is my grandpa. the first person that talked to me in english. he taught me, relentlessly, patiently, till i would learn to his satisfaction. he never made me do homework or read me stories or anything, he just called me names that i would find weird and then asked me to guess what it meant. after i tried and failed he'd tell me what it meant. samples are:- ugly worm, irritant, ape, etc. :)
clearly he had the same wacky sense of humor which i carry now. the best advice that i got as a child was from him, arguably. people compliment kids every now and then saying, "good boy." grandpa did that too. but one day i asked him what it meant. he said, it's just a way of conversing and that i shouldn't take it to my head as it basically meant nothing. in truth he taught me not to get carried away with appreciation. i still have trouble reacting to good words told about me.
that was ages ago. now grandpa suffers from AD or Alzheimer's Disease. simply put it means that the cells in your brain are dying out one by one. relate it to a pc's memory being formatted, chunk by chunk, day by day. it began when we found out he had trouble remembering the names of distant relatives. it always begins that way; with tiny things. then he couldn't remember which bus to take from a town to his house. he forgot where his house was, then he forgot who was who.
now it's pretty severe. he hardly recognizes people. sometimes he mistakes me for his son, and sometimes he thinks i'm his buddy and begins addressing me like he'd address grown ups, in plurals. he doesn't remember the faces of his children, he doesn't remember that the house he lives in is the one he constructed, he doesn't remember that his son is married. grandpa sometimes cannot get his brain to process the word that he wants and most times the sentences are incongruent. they are usually never completed.
how much life changes...
he was a gazzetted health inspector. something great for his times, i hear. grandpa was intelligent, respected and feared in equal measures. there are still relatives that i meet in functions who tell me that they still remember images of the man who wore the crisp white shirt and the khaki colored pant who's baritone would straighten a few hairs of people who indulge in indiscipline. in a way, he is still feared. :)
i am told that virtually all his married life he had to stay away from home, but he did so because he had to provide for a family of four back home. yet, he has educated all his children, all of them successful and living well now. grandpa was always neat and orderly. papers wouldn't be strung out like nomads in a desert. a spotless career graph at a time of political comedy and not being lured into accepting bribes, i can go on.
when i was tiny he would make me rifles from the barks of coconut leaves and would take me along with him to pick up fallen cashew fruits in the compound. now, all he does is sit in a corner and see things. things don't register in his mind, memories are constantly vanishing. the last ones to go are language and other things i had read. that point of no return is not too far.
it is easy to get impatient, to get angry, to scold, to force. but it is impossible to know what his life would be, to see it from his perspective. imagine not remembering who your loved ones are, not remembering if you just ate or if you haven't eaten since two days, to not remember if you slept or not, to not remember your life. it's not even a consolation to feel that he's still here. this is simply not him. this is just the shell of a spent man.
i write this not because i feel sympathetic towards him, or because i feel guilty sometimes that i do not do enough for him at this age of his. i write this simply because i miss my grandpa that was. the grandpa that gave be pieces of jaggery. the grandpa that would tell me there's more fun in playing outdoors and falling than sitting indoors, the grandpa of mine who could lift me and make me feel he's stronger than anyone else in the world.
i miss ajja.
he was born in the same year as che guevara, 1928. yet, thanks be to the almighty he's never had any physical health issues for 81years. only after that did his blood sugar levels increase a bit which my grandma brought down within a month through a wonderfully strict diet. even now my grandpa can read without spectacles and hear without a problem. he still speaks in english at times and he still inspires me.
without a sense of self decoration, i can safely say that my english is good enough and the reason for this, is my grandpa. the first person that talked to me in english. he taught me, relentlessly, patiently, till i would learn to his satisfaction. he never made me do homework or read me stories or anything, he just called me names that i would find weird and then asked me to guess what it meant. after i tried and failed he'd tell me what it meant. samples are:- ugly worm, irritant, ape, etc. :)
clearly he had the same wacky sense of humor which i carry now. the best advice that i got as a child was from him, arguably. people compliment kids every now and then saying, "good boy." grandpa did that too. but one day i asked him what it meant. he said, it's just a way of conversing and that i shouldn't take it to my head as it basically meant nothing. in truth he taught me not to get carried away with appreciation. i still have trouble reacting to good words told about me.
that was ages ago. now grandpa suffers from AD or Alzheimer's Disease. simply put it means that the cells in your brain are dying out one by one. relate it to a pc's memory being formatted, chunk by chunk, day by day. it began when we found out he had trouble remembering the names of distant relatives. it always begins that way; with tiny things. then he couldn't remember which bus to take from a town to his house. he forgot where his house was, then he forgot who was who.
now it's pretty severe. he hardly recognizes people. sometimes he mistakes me for his son, and sometimes he thinks i'm his buddy and begins addressing me like he'd address grown ups, in plurals. he doesn't remember the faces of his children, he doesn't remember that the house he lives in is the one he constructed, he doesn't remember that his son is married. grandpa sometimes cannot get his brain to process the word that he wants and most times the sentences are incongruent. they are usually never completed.
how much life changes...
he was a gazzetted health inspector. something great for his times, i hear. grandpa was intelligent, respected and feared in equal measures. there are still relatives that i meet in functions who tell me that they still remember images of the man who wore the crisp white shirt and the khaki colored pant who's baritone would straighten a few hairs of people who indulge in indiscipline. in a way, he is still feared. :)
i am told that virtually all his married life he had to stay away from home, but he did so because he had to provide for a family of four back home. yet, he has educated all his children, all of them successful and living well now. grandpa was always neat and orderly. papers wouldn't be strung out like nomads in a desert. a spotless career graph at a time of political comedy and not being lured into accepting bribes, i can go on.
when i was tiny he would make me rifles from the barks of coconut leaves and would take me along with him to pick up fallen cashew fruits in the compound. now, all he does is sit in a corner and see things. things don't register in his mind, memories are constantly vanishing. the last ones to go are language and other things i had read. that point of no return is not too far.
it is easy to get impatient, to get angry, to scold, to force. but it is impossible to know what his life would be, to see it from his perspective. imagine not remembering who your loved ones are, not remembering if you just ate or if you haven't eaten since two days, to not remember if you slept or not, to not remember your life. it's not even a consolation to feel that he's still here. this is simply not him. this is just the shell of a spent man.
i write this not because i feel sympathetic towards him, or because i feel guilty sometimes that i do not do enough for him at this age of his. i write this simply because i miss my grandpa that was. the grandpa that gave be pieces of jaggery. the grandpa that would tell me there's more fun in playing outdoors and falling than sitting indoors, the grandpa of mine who could lift me and make me feel he's stronger than anyone else in the world.
i miss ajja.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
2wheels 2freedom
biking doesn't begin with a bike, it begins with the mind.
i can hear my friends smirking, saying bugger wasn't able to convince his parents for gokarna and now he's talking philosophy... mama talks all big big things but beep beep beep... sorry for that.
anyway, that is not at all the point. i read in the hindu today that harley davidson launched a showroom in bangalore and that got me thinking and get deeper into all this. so there began the thought train. a harley is clearly the mother of all bikes, every serious biker would definitely respect it if not like it. after all they are in a way the creators of bikes, arguably. they've been around from before the time that my grandpa was born!
their slogan is "live to ride, ride to live." imagine. riding for life. like riding is an occupation, paid one at that! a v-rod or a nightster, unlimited fuel, a HOG jacket and a bandanna, never ending roads, clear skies, the sound of a V-engine, eating those miles... now get back to reality. petrol price rising each Friday, your same old bike, pot-holed roads (dotted for extra pleasure!?!? :D ) sweaty weather, mean buses, menacing truckers, irritating autos... biking is almost a pain.
then there are these jerks who modify their bikes and make them sound like those poor bikes are suffering from sore throats. is it truly macho to ride fast? i agree that when i began i also felt a thrill to ride faster and faster, but with age there comes maturity; at least generally it does and now the aim is to enjoy driving my bike.
i love the cool breeze whistling in my ears, the horizon staying constant while the scenery becomes a slow blur; the low growl of the engine being a constant companion and humming your favorite song as you drive by without any heavy thoughts bugging you. it surely is an escape from the monotony of life. for anyone who happens to know both me and the story of "Into The Wild" there is a tiny possibility that you may notice that there is a small similarity. the wild... exciting... being out there all alone, no idea of the current location, no idea of the next... no idea of the availability of food nor of water... i've always been enticed by the idea of it. although i don't share the disorder of Alexander Supertramp i do share his curiosity. the question always nags:-what's out there? there maybe a few of you who would call me mad but being mad in this way is better than being childish and playfully mad, like skipping stones on the road and calling it as a lifestyle without caring for the world.
since a long time there has been the idea of a monstrous chopper, and a ride into the horizon, destination unknown. but the closest i have got to a big beast of a bike is a bullet 500, '80s made. then i have driven a thunder-bird 350 of late. yet, the hunger is insatiable. there has to be a devil waiting for me. my own machine, which is going to be a part of me, my bike of which i will be a part of.
i started off with harley and reached into my imaginatory world. :( sad. there was this statement about a harley. when you wanna impersonate thunder and rumbling, just start a HD engine. i heard it ages ago, in the year that Arnold did a stunt on a Fat Boy as Terminator2 and it has stuck since that time.
all the same, boys and girls, ladies and gents, i will go wandering off some day and that is a promise. for a biker, the journey never ends; only the routes change. destinations may vary but destinies won't. by the way try typing "biking" on your cell phone with the dictionary/prediction on and the words that come before "biking" appears are something that you get as free gifts if you're on a never-ending-tour. ;)
so start you're engines, (shift the gears! ashwath will help...) and ride away!!!
i can hear my friends smirking, saying bugger wasn't able to convince his parents for gokarna and now he's talking philosophy... mama talks all big big things but beep beep beep... sorry for that.
anyway, that is not at all the point. i read in the hindu today that harley davidson launched a showroom in bangalore and that got me thinking and get deeper into all this. so there began the thought train. a harley is clearly the mother of all bikes, every serious biker would definitely respect it if not like it. after all they are in a way the creators of bikes, arguably. they've been around from before the time that my grandpa was born!
their slogan is "live to ride, ride to live." imagine. riding for life. like riding is an occupation, paid one at that! a v-rod or a nightster, unlimited fuel, a HOG jacket and a bandanna, never ending roads, clear skies, the sound of a V-engine, eating those miles... now get back to reality. petrol price rising each Friday, your same old bike, pot-holed roads (dotted for extra pleasure!?!? :D ) sweaty weather, mean buses, menacing truckers, irritating autos... biking is almost a pain.
then there are these jerks who modify their bikes and make them sound like those poor bikes are suffering from sore throats. is it truly macho to ride fast? i agree that when i began i also felt a thrill to ride faster and faster, but with age there comes maturity; at least generally it does and now the aim is to enjoy driving my bike.
i love the cool breeze whistling in my ears, the horizon staying constant while the scenery becomes a slow blur; the low growl of the engine being a constant companion and humming your favorite song as you drive by without any heavy thoughts bugging you. it surely is an escape from the monotony of life. for anyone who happens to know both me and the story of "Into The Wild" there is a tiny possibility that you may notice that there is a small similarity. the wild... exciting... being out there all alone, no idea of the current location, no idea of the next... no idea of the availability of food nor of water... i've always been enticed by the idea of it. although i don't share the disorder of Alexander Supertramp i do share his curiosity. the question always nags:-what's out there? there maybe a few of you who would call me mad but being mad in this way is better than being childish and playfully mad, like skipping stones on the road and calling it as a lifestyle without caring for the world.
since a long time there has been the idea of a monstrous chopper, and a ride into the horizon, destination unknown. but the closest i have got to a big beast of a bike is a bullet 500, '80s made. then i have driven a thunder-bird 350 of late. yet, the hunger is insatiable. there has to be a devil waiting for me. my own machine, which is going to be a part of me, my bike of which i will be a part of.
i started off with harley and reached into my imaginatory world. :( sad. there was this statement about a harley. when you wanna impersonate thunder and rumbling, just start a HD engine. i heard it ages ago, in the year that Arnold did a stunt on a Fat Boy as Terminator2 and it has stuck since that time.
all the same, boys and girls, ladies and gents, i will go wandering off some day and that is a promise. for a biker, the journey never ends; only the routes change. destinations may vary but destinies won't. by the way try typing "biking" on your cell phone with the dictionary/prediction on and the words that come before "biking" appears are something that you get as free gifts if you're on a never-ending-tour. ;)
so start you're engines, (shift the gears! ashwath will help...) and ride away!!!
Friday, March 26, 2010
Finally an MIT-ian!
"Chicks uncle, obviously!" was how i answered the question "What's the best thing there?" It was posed by my uncle when he'd called to congratulate me for getting into this new world called Manipal. "[expletive] man, i'm through! after a long time... better now than never..." My, what excitement as i told my neighbors and friends... Being here is a privilege, no less. This used to be an uninhabited hilly forest about half a century ago till one fine morning when TMA Pai thought of changing the world, both literally and figuratively. And he did just that. Manipal is now world renowned, has students from 52countries and other advertising i'm not doing right now. They don't pay me for that, so why bother?
Anyway, for a student, this is heaven. For reasons that can be mentioned here and also for those that cannot be, this is it. This is fun and frolic. And then some. :)
New friends, new classes, old classrooms, expectations of AC but squeaky fans, super fast internet, window shopping from 10.00-10.30, part time classmates, full time classmates, antics inside the classroom, weak networks, birthday bumps, (even for those who don't have birthdays) Revels, comments in Revels, stuff like this. Tiny details that cumulatively make a wonderful memory. It's a short time here, just one academic year; but it's a lifetime's story.
I can't satisfy myself without pulling quick ones on my classmates here. We've got a rosgulla who's shedding hair, an excellent mimic who wants to postpone every assignment and seminar and whatever-it-is, irritants who resemble actors from the '60s, we've got low-waisters with gelled hair, fat waisters with dosa flair; a guest student who claims he can come when he wants, a hyperactive potato shaped girl with devilish nail polishes (which i think glow in the dark,) a pole and a dancer (no, that doesn't mean a pole dancer, of course,) a highly optimistic fan of Madonna, a volleyball champ who grew fat but didn't eat much, and a part timer with interests in pens, tests and pants.
Close to our class we have few more lovely characters - a dangerous loose cannon which never misses a good point or a good quote and a funnily gross man. I mean grossly funny man.
All in all, it is a joy ride all along. There isn't enough memory nor space to fill everything here. That is how it is, for any student. Not for the lecturers. You don't fool around here with them. There are those who have been here longer than i have been alive, those who don't bluff. All lecturers i'd seen in the past, were interesting at best. Here, i'm in awe of some of them. I wouldn't be too wrong in saying they are living legends in their own rights.
They say motivation can come from anywhere. Undoubtedly. For me, there's been a sweet surprise, a sweeter motivation. An email sent at 230 in the morning gets a reply at 420 in the same morning! [expletive chain] In the name of Almighty Lord Who Protect Us All, when do they sleep??? There's only 24hrs in a day thankfully, or there wouldn't be limits to what they'd do in just one day.
Its not just the time that they put in,long term or short term, its the knowledge they have, the attitude they have, more importantly the hunger they have even now to get better and better, to learn more that is a slap across my face (I don't know about you!). I hardly study for an hour a day. :( You see difficulty in entering MIT but not from getting out. After a certain period of time you will graduate as surely as 2+2=4. But what you take from here, is what matters. These are not my words, they'd never be. They might never be anything apart from just another sentence in just another post in just another blog for just another reader; but it is as solid in meaning as the ground beneath your feet.
You can start whenever you want, its never too late to learn. What you know is never too less or more, it is simply what you know. I have a fear that I'll be respected (if that happens that is) only for my degree and not for what I am or not for what I know. Even that doesn't motivate me to study must be the symptoms of a neurotic disease, but the awareness that there is right now, about where I stand; how miniscule I am is vastly different. There is now a sense of self realization, even if it has a ring of negativity to it.
That, is the best thing about Manipal.
Anyway, for a student, this is heaven. For reasons that can be mentioned here and also for those that cannot be, this is it. This is fun and frolic. And then some. :)
New friends, new classes, old classrooms, expectations of AC but squeaky fans, super fast internet, window shopping from 10.00-10.30, part time classmates, full time classmates, antics inside the classroom, weak networks, birthday bumps, (even for those who don't have birthdays) Revels, comments in Revels, stuff like this. Tiny details that cumulatively make a wonderful memory. It's a short time here, just one academic year; but it's a lifetime's story.
I can't satisfy myself without pulling quick ones on my classmates here. We've got a rosgulla who's shedding hair, an excellent mimic who wants to postpone every assignment and seminar and whatever-it-is, irritants who resemble actors from the '60s, we've got low-waisters with gelled hair, fat waisters with dosa flair; a guest student who claims he can come when he wants, a hyperactive potato shaped girl with devilish nail polishes (which i think glow in the dark,) a pole and a dancer (no, that doesn't mean a pole dancer, of course,) a highly optimistic fan of Madonna, a volleyball champ who grew fat but didn't eat much, and a part timer with interests in pens, tests and pants.
Close to our class we have few more lovely characters - a dangerous loose cannon which never misses a good point or a good quote and a funnily gross man. I mean grossly funny man.
All in all, it is a joy ride all along. There isn't enough memory nor space to fill everything here. That is how it is, for any student. Not for the lecturers. You don't fool around here with them. There are those who have been here longer than i have been alive, those who don't bluff. All lecturers i'd seen in the past, were interesting at best. Here, i'm in awe of some of them. I wouldn't be too wrong in saying they are living legends in their own rights.
They say motivation can come from anywhere. Undoubtedly. For me, there's been a sweet surprise, a sweeter motivation. An email sent at 230 in the morning gets a reply at 420 in the same morning! [expletive chain] In the name of Almighty Lord Who Protect Us All, when do they sleep??? There's only 24hrs in a day thankfully, or there wouldn't be limits to what they'd do in just one day.
Its not just the time that they put in,long term or short term, its the knowledge they have, the attitude they have, more importantly the hunger they have even now to get better and better, to learn more that is a slap across my face (I don't know about you!). I hardly study for an hour a day. :( You see difficulty in entering MIT but not from getting out. After a certain period of time you will graduate as surely as 2+2=4. But what you take from here, is what matters. These are not my words, they'd never be. They might never be anything apart from just another sentence in just another post in just another blog for just another reader; but it is as solid in meaning as the ground beneath your feet.
You can start whenever you want, its never too late to learn. What you know is never too less or more, it is simply what you know. I have a fear that I'll be respected (if that happens that is) only for my degree and not for what I am or not for what I know. Even that doesn't motivate me to study must be the symptoms of a neurotic disease, but the awareness that there is right now, about where I stand; how miniscule I am is vastly different. There is now a sense of self realization, even if it has a ring of negativity to it.
That, is the best thing about Manipal.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
my longest single sentence
I, Abhilash K. B., on this 25th day of March 2010, hereby solemnly declare to have placed a bet willfully, willingly and under no external pressure whatsoever of any kind against Mr. Pramod D'Sa, Lecturer, MIT Manipal regarding the complete study, analysis and understanding of the Ph.D thesis report of Mr. Pit Leong Wong named "Performance Improvements of Multi Channel Interleaving Voltage Regulator Module with Integrated Coupling Inductors" concerning the completion of our mini project on design of buck converter, on or before the 25th day of April, 2010 on the successful completion of which my challenger Mr. Pramod D'Sa agrees to accede his defeat by way of sponsoring a "no-holds-barred" meaning to be an unlimited expenditure on dinner at a place of my choice and at a date of my choice, marking the satisfactory completing of the said "bet."
Signed:-
Challenger(Pramod D'Sa)
Challengent(Abhilash K. B.)
Witness(Vasanth Kini)
Date:- 25th March 2010, 1642hrs.
Place:-PE & D Lab, MIT Manipal, Manipal.
LEGALLY BINDING DOCUMENT HENCEFORTH
Signed:-
Challenger(Pramod D'Sa)
Challengent(Abhilash K. B.)
Witness(Vasanth Kini)
Date:- 25th March 2010, 1642hrs.
Place:-PE & D Lab, MIT Manipal, Manipal.
LEGALLY BINDING DOCUMENT HENCEFORTH
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