Serving The Students Of: Fill & Download for Free

I grew up in NYC, I’m about the same age as Mr. Trump and watched him play the city in the 70s and 80s. Young men I grew up with did not return from southeast Asia. I put myself through school with grit and a bit of luck. I am a father to two wonderful daughters, the oldest is a teenager. I am an close observer and critic of all who claim to serve the people and their causes. I read both conservative and liberal writers and publications and strive to be critical but fair to all. I respect intelligent analysis and I am not afraid to speak truth to power. I have been and remain a lifelong student of history and society. Need I say more?Obama, without reservation.

I was posted in Astana, the new Capital of Kazakhstan. Astana was then (I am talking about 2004) truly back of beyond. While landing at the airport, one could see that it was a small patch with a few buildings surrounded by nothingness from all sides. In summers, the temperature reached forty degrees Celsius and the winters of Astana made Moscow winters (my previous posting) look like springtime in Delhi.I was posted as the Representative of India. Our Embassy was still in Almaty. I did not have a lot of work. Once in a blue moon, a delegation from India landed up in Astana for meetings in Ministries. There were one and a half Indian families in Astana (one was married to a local). One was lucky to meet either of them once in a week. Our office was also given the job of issuing visas but it was a rare delight to have a visa-applicant. Every time a person entered the diplomatic village in which our Representative Office was located, I would keep looking at the person in anticipation that the person would turn towards our Office. Most of the times, I was disheartened. Since visitors to the diplomatic village were not frequent, my biggest pastime was counting the number of layers of bricks laid each day on a building coming up nearby.I was recovering from the shock of my first winter in Astana (temperatures went down to -47 degree Celsius). I had almost given up hope of having some action or excitement in Astana after I had spent about six months. So, coming to office one morning, I got the surprise of my life when I received a phone call from the local police that not one or two but twenty Indian students had been detained and were to be produced before a local judge. I asked the policeman if he was sure that the students were not from Iran or Turkey or one of the neighbouring CIS countries. The policeman said that he was sure that they were Indian students. If this was true, I thought, both action and excitement would be available in double the amount since the only local assistance I had was on leave. The policeman said that it was better that I reach the local court in about an hour since they would have left the police station by the time I would reach them.In the court, I first spoke to the police to verify the identity of students. He showed me their Indian passports. I requested to meet the students separately in a room. When I entered the room, I could sense that there was more aggression in the students than fear. And one of the first things that many of them said was that they were hungry. In the commotion of every student wanting to tell his or her version, I found out that the story was like this: The students had come through an Indian contractor, who like many of them in those days, had vanished after he had received his fair share. The students were to study medicine in a medical college in Karaganda, a nearby city. However, by the time they reached Karaganda, all the seats had been taken. The medical college of Karaganda directed them to the medical college in Astana. And according to the students, the medical college in Astana demanded a sizable amount of additional fees to let them in. Some of the students had wanted to return to India. However, the medical college in Astana retained their passports. A stalemate ensued and the limited period for which the visas had been issued got expired. And then, as per the students, the college authorities let the police know about the status of the students to bring pressure on them. I asked why none of them had contacted our Office when the problem started. They said that they were not even aware that there was an Indian representation in Astana.I got some food for the students. While they ate, I spoke first to the college authorities and then to the police. The college authorities said that they were doing a favour on the students by taking them in when they were under no obligation to do so. It was Karaganda medical college and not Astana medical college which had entered into an agreement with the Indian contractor. As far as the fees that they were demanding was concerned, they said that it was same for all foreign students. They added that they had provided food and shelter to the students for over two weeks without charging anything from them. The policeman anticipated that the judge would perhaps first jail the students (and the jail term could be up to a year) and then deport them at their own cost. If they were lucky, they would escape any financial penalty.When I went back to the students and told them what I had heard, their only replies were of threat. Some said - We will bash up the medical college authorities. Others said – We are not scared of jail. I told them that a jail in Astana would not be the best place to be for if they would not die of hunger, they would surely die of cold. I managed to get a commitment from the students that they would stay calm before the judge and let me do the talking.After several hours of waiting at the courtroom, the judge finally turned up. She looked at the public prosecutor and nodded. Both seemed to be friendly to each other and I could see that the odds were against the students. The judge then looked at the students and asked if there was a lawyer from their side. None of the students spoke a word of Russian. I said that I was from the Embassy and would represent the students.The judge asked the public prosecutor to present the case. The policeman then gave his version. The college administration gave theirs. And then my turn came. I then spoke of how strong India-Kazakhstan relations were and how the President had greatly contributed to strengthening of relations between our countries. The judge listened attentively. A diplomat could have discovered that I was reading out from my official briefs. But for the judge, who was used to hearing about thefts and killings, this seemed like something new. I then came to the issue of the students. I said that all of them were young and had come to a distant land to get a medical degree to make their ends meet later in life. It was no fault of theirs that they had fallen into an unfortunate situation. I was careful not to blame the college administration or the police.The judge then had a round of question and answer session starting with the policeman and ending with me. She then asked the public prosecutor to speak. As predicted by the policeman, the public prosecutor said that as per the law, the students should be imprisoned for six months, imposed a fine of a mind-boggling figure and then deported to India with a stamp of deportation on their passports.The judge finally asked if I had anything to say. I said that since the students had not committed the error knowingly and their entire life would be ruined if they were imprisoned or a stamp of deportation was put on their passports, they should be allowed to return to India. I ended by speaking about the strong ties between India and Kazakhstan.The judge’s expression had hardly changed. It was already dark outside. The judge said that she will pass the judgement next day.The policeman said that he would take the students to the police station. But after some begging and beseeching, he agreed to let them stay at the medical college hostel with a policeman outside their dormitory. The college authorities said that they were ready to let the students stay but would feed them only if someone bore the expenditure. I gave them money and left home exhausted - a rare day indeed in Astana.I could not sleep well the whole night. Most nights, I could not sleep well in Astana because I was not tired enough. But on that night, I was worried about the fate of the students who were too young to realise the gravity of the situation.The next morning, I was the first person to reach the court. The students looked serious but none of them said that he or she was hungry. Again after several hours of wait, the judge came to the courtroom. She summarized the entire case. She then said that a crime is a crime, irrespective of whether the person who commits it is aware of it or not. I started feeling pessimistic. Things seemed to be moving in the wrong direction. The judge then chided the students for being rash and not respecting the laws of the country. She then took a long pause. Then she uttered her final verdict, ‘There is no doubt that the students have broken the law of the land. But after taking into consideration all factors and as a very special case, the students are being allowed to leave the country in the next 24 hours.’ The students erupted in joy.It has been over a dozen years since the above event took place. I have been posted to several places and witnessed many events. But the satisfaction that I received on that day has remained unmatched.EDIT: Thank you, everyone for the overwhelming response. One of the greatest satisfactions of being in the IFS is to be able to serve India and her people, no matter where we are posted or in which capacity. Hope the event will inspire many of you to join the IFS in future to help India from abroad and help Indians abroad.

UC Berkeley is the best of schools; UC Berkeley is the worst of schools.When parents ask me about UC Berkeley, before I answer I ask them about their child. I tell them that UC Berkeley is a truly great school for the student who is independent yet sociable, who is determined to get a wonderful education, who is outgoing and has many outside interests.However, if your child is shy, not highly motivated, and likely to get lost in a big organization, then do not send that child to UC Berkeley. Send the student to a teaching college, one that nurtures and watches and serves as in loco parentis. Perhaps once the student has developed a bit, the student will want to transfer to UC Berkeley.At UC Berkeley, the student can take advantage of unbelievable resources, talk to the greatest scholars in the world in a variety of fields that can not be matched at any other university. The number of clubs and social organizations covers every conceivable interest, and many you could never conceive of. But the student who is not going to take advantage of these plusses will do better elsewhere.