Monday 31 August 2009

Dipesh Mehta is awarded Chartered Financial Analyst charter



Dipesh Mehta, son of Mala and Vinod Mehta, has passed Level 3 of the Chartered Financial Analyst exam of the U.S. based Chartered Financial Institute. He was awarded the coveted CFA Charter this month. Chartered Financial Analyst (CFA) Charter is well known as the gold standard of professional credentials within the global investment community. CFA designation is recognized worldwide as the definitive standard for measuring competence and integrity in the fields of portfolio management and investment analysis. At the point of writing this article there are only approximately 78,000 people from 126 different countries who have been awarded the right to use the CFA designation.

Dipesh has also previously completed his MBA and MS (Finance). He is currently working with Barclays in Dubai as Senior Relationship Manager in charge of Financial Instituitions in GCC / Levant countries.

He is probably the first CFA Charter holder among Bhagnaris. The community is pleased to welcome their very own CFA in Dubai.

Tuesday 18 August 2009

Priyanka Nasta gradutes as Electronics and Electrical Engineer with 87% marks

Priyanka Nasta possibly became the first Bhagnari girl to become an Engineer, when she graduated from BITS Pilani, Dubai, securing 87% marks.

Daughter of Niranjan and Nandini Nasta, she narrates her feelings in the write-up below, which has been reproduced un-edited. Bhagnari community salutes Priyanka and hopes that her achievement will inspire many more Bhagnari girls to take the lead.

3 September 2005 – I feel almost certain that this date is of little consequence to any of the readers. But for me, it was one date which would stay in my mind for a long time to come. After all, it was my first day at BITS Pilani, Dubai. From the very start of the day, the weirdest thoughts began flashing in my head ranging from what I would wear, to how would I locate my classroom, to how the people would be and even to what I would eat through the day (yeah…I do think about food quite a lot!).


As expected, the first day of college was not rocking, rather it was…on the rocks. Some of the reasons for this were the over-powering seniors, snobbish boys, scary professors and lack of girls in the campus (only 8 students out of 60 were girls!). My thought at the end of the day was, how will I get through four years in this place?


The first year seemed a little difficult, both in terms of studies and adjusting with the people. In the study area, the difficulty was that most of the courses were self study, and unlike in India, there are no private coaching classes in Dubai universities. Hence the challenge lied in trusting my ability and guiding myself towards a good score. As far as the people were concerned, many of them came from India and just like me, they were discovering new people…and a new place!


However, by the beginning of the second year, things became more comfortable. I got used to the study pattern and also became quite attached to my classmates. In addition to compulsory courses like Math and Physics, I also read courses in Technical Report Writing, Marketing and Management, which I feel are very important and useful in the corporate world. In addition to this I also did an internship for two months with an electrical based company, which gave me a clear insight on how office life would be.


The third year was when I had to study hardcore Electrical courses (my major being Electronics and Electricals). It was by far the toughest year in college as I had many lab sessions to complete and many assignments to turn in. But the mall outings and shopping sprees with friends acted as major stress busters (in fact, I think I know Mall of the Emirates inside out because of this!).


The fourth year was when I enjoyed college the most. Practice School II with Zio Technologies LLC was on the agenda for the first semester and a study oriented project was up in the second. I also attended two farewell parties hosted by our juniors and the University staff. Also, knowing that it was the last year of college made me do things I wouldn’t have done otherwise, like participating in debate, elocution and even a salad dressing competition (came first in it…by the way!).


17 August 2009 – I feel certain that this date too is of little consequence to any of the readers. But it has been etched in my mind forever. After all, it was my Graduation day. I met all my friends and faculty after a long time and it was the best feeling to see all the students in graduation robes and hats. It would be wrong not to mention the love, support and encouragement provided by my parents and my brother Mohit. I’m told that I am probably the first Bhagnari girl to become an engineer, and if this is true, I owe it all to my family.


So watch out people, there is a new Electronics and Electrical Engineer around. Brace yourselves, because in these days of Unique Identification Numbers, 2005A3PS218U (my college ID) has finally arrived – and thank God for that – WHAT A THOUGHT SIR JI…

Saturday 1 August 2009

Mice, Men and the Moon


The following article has been written by Gobind Kataria, who lives in London. He was a lecturer in English at K.C. College, Bombay, from 1962 to 1966 and then finally, before retiring, an Education Adviser in the UK, after a series of teaching jobs. He has been living there since 1966.

A couple years back, on my walk through the streets of Mahim, I saw a huge rat, the size of a kitten; pass by me nonchalantly, unafraid, almost like my fellow humans. No one attempted to kill it nor even kick it or harm it. It was a specimen of life, a form of creation, blessed by gods. It had as much right to live as I have. This was despite the fact that rats can cause plagues, diseases, etc. But, do we have any right to kill them? We are probably a superior creation, so we think, we are the creatures made in the image of god whoever that god be. And this reminded me of an old history lesson. When the invaders came from Arabia or Mongolia, all they had to do was to push cows in front of the army. We would not touch a cow, and the brave Rajput warriors stood silent while the nation was plundered. The gods on the moon looked on.

The moon landing shook my grandmother's faith. She would say, so, there are no gods on the moon. These godless Americans and Soviets, meat-eaters, beer swilling westerners have landed on the celestial part of the universe of ours. Bollywood films would be without those ceremonies by females in their half-exposed dresses worshipping the moon for the longevity of their husbands, who would always turn up late after a session at the club. Never seen a man praying for his wife's long life unless of course he is old and dependent on his partner. And now comes a little bit of the past, those golden days of Karachi – a paradise lost.

And you will ask me what is this old blogger talking about. I will of course take you back to Karachi. Memories haunt me, so I must unload them somewhere. Imagine a narrow street, our Bhagnari temple on one side, and the girls' pathshala (school) on the other side. It was believed that Kabir or some saint had left his footprint in that building and it was well preserved, and we would quietly go up the stairs on our way to the Night School. If I remember right, most of our Bhagnari young girls were educated in that Hindi school. That was the height of education. Our roles were all fixed. The society was orderly and the rules were simple. Men were the bread-winners and women were, of course, homemakers. Nothing could go wrong in that world. But then it was all reversed. Outside the temple, I stood there one day arguing with my dear friend, Issar Popley, an intellectual influenced by the Soviet system. He was one of those rare Bhagnari intellectuals who dedicated his life for a cause. Ramesh Poplay is his son, as you all know. I believed in God and gods passionately, and he was not convinced. We argued for hours. I said and still do, that God and religion are two different things. God lives through our heart and faith and love. Religion is created by men, whose business is to create a system. The rituals take over the gods, who are eventually forgotten.

God cannot be argued, proved or disproved intellectually. God can only be experienced through our heart; we can sense him, intuit him but can't prove him. A poet once wrote: we men are hollow, we men are lonely, we men are alone. Our future is uncertain, our fate predestined and our release can be through the final exit. Deep in our hearts we know we are on our own. What goes through our minds cannot be confided to our wives or husbands or friends. It is the deep-seated insecurity. Just talk to gods - they would not charge you a penny.

We can't stand our own company. So we turn to drink or flesh. It doesn't matter; he may not listen to all the rubbish we ask for. He works as a psychiatrist. You won't have to go to a therapist. God just is a great therapist. As I sit in my old sofa, meditating on the unknown gods, I say to myself: I would not see a true God, but how does it matter. We have this beautiful creation, colourful, with birds singing through the windows. Well, that is what is wrong with the western world. It is godless, too intellectual, too rational. At every street corner there is a therapist or a pub. Drink your way to eliminate your loneliness. It is fast happening in India, we are losing our gods. But then, my friend, you would ask me: Do you think God exists. Well, of course, he does, in our minds, in our fellow beings and through our love and hearts. Do not ask many questions - just see how our universe is finely balanced. Remove that force of mysterious gravity and we float in the air. It couldn't all be an accident as some scientists would make us believe.

I am in my ripe old age and when I get up there (heaven and hell are poetic creations made by the religious bigots to frighten us) I would just ask God one question. Is this world real? Well, He would say, perhaps: illusion, my son, we need the illusion, this mess, this chaos. Reality is hard to bear. Without illusion earth would be a dull place.