This is the icebreaker speech(ie the first speech) that I gave at Toastmasters.Some of the points mentioned here(especially about the Dhurva reactor) may be factually incorrect,but, it has mainly been done to convey the boys emotions and feelings.
So here goes my speech............
Good afternoon everyone. I am Krishnan Subramanian.Every member of the Toastmaster's club gives an introductory speech as his/her first speech which is called as an ice-breaker. It normally covers the speakers childhood, his interests,his likes and dislikes, his philosophies in life,etc,but, today, in my ice-breaker, I don't want to talk about myself. Rather, I want to talk about a book that I am writing. Please don't think that its a promotional campaign for my book :-) .
Like every attractive book, it will also have a beautiful cover that would make it stand right out among the other books in the book-shelf.I am so confident that the cover would be beautiful and attractive,because, I won't be designing the cover.
The first chapter of the book would talk about a boy who was born in the temple town of Madurai. Though he was born in Madurai and his parents , grand parents,uncles and aunties, everyone was from Tamil Nadu, still, he could never associate himself with the Tamil culture.He liked to call himself a Mumbaikar--not a Bombaiyite or a Mumbaite--mind you,but, a Mumbaikar--in the typical Marathi lingo.That was because, though he was born in Madurai,but, he was completely brought up in Mumbai and he used to love the city.See, anyone who lives in any city long enough, starts loving it,but, his fondness for the city was not because of time, but, because, he thought that Mumbai was a citythat thrived on ideas. It was a city where anyone could succeed, whatever be the parameters of success .Also, it was a city, where everyone --rich and poor--saw all the aspects of life everyday. For example, the Tatas and Ambanis, they may have costly cars costing crores of rupees,but, still they would have to travel in the pot-holed roads, they would still have to live in a polluted city , they would still have to see the orphaned children and street beggars everyday--just like an ordinary mumbaikar would see. The city ensured that everyone saw both the highs and lows, so that everyone would aspire to fly in the sky,but, would also be cautious enough to keep their feet firmly on the ground.So this was the lesson that our boy learnt from his love affair--fly high with your feet firmly on the ground.
The second chapter would talk about the boy's childhood. Our boy was from a typical middle class background.His mother was a school teacher and his dad was a scientist at BARC, Bhabha Atomic research Centre.All the kids in his colony,mind you, though I call it a colony,but, it actually housed more than 13000 families. I could say, it was bigger than even Madhapur(a place in Hyderabad).Anyway, all the kids in his colony had a lot of respect for BARC,for wasn't it the research institution that had put India on the international map by its peaceful usage of nuclear energy.But, our boy thought that that it was just a very successful hype campaign done by the government and that, like any other government institution, it was an epitome of inefficiency and beauracracy.When he was in the 9th std, he got a chance to see a nuclear reactor as part of a science excursion trip. The reactor that he saw was the Dhurva reactor.It was almost as tall as a 13-storwy building.To go to the reactor core, he had to cross a concrete wall of more than 10 feet thickness.(Mostly inconsistent data--but then our boy was neven good at estimations :-)). Luckily for him, the day he went, the reactor had been shut down for maintenance purpouses.So, he could go right into the core.(or what he though off as the core), and, he was dumb-struck by what he saw. The intricate layers of fuel rods, controllers, coolant pipes,etc looked like a real zoomed-in image of the intricate thread weavings in a cloth.He immediately realised that , what he was seeing was not some art work,but, an engineering marvel, that few other countries in the world had achieved.That day, for the first time in his life, he felt proud to be an Indian,and that day, our boy learnt the 2nd lesson of his life--don't make judgements until you have seen thing for yourself.
Well, I could keep on going about the various chapters of my book covering various aspects of our heroes life,but, you all must be wondering----tomorrow, if I want to go and buy the book , or if I want to go and read the book,then what will I tell the book-keeper or librarian?How will I recognise the book?So, let me conclude by telling you the name of my book. The book is titled--"My Life" by Krishnan Subramanian.
So here goes my speech............
Good afternoon everyone. I am Krishnan Subramanian.Every member of the Toastmaster's club gives an introductory speech as his/her first speech which is called as an ice-breaker. It normally covers the speakers childhood, his interests,his likes and dislikes, his philosophies in life,etc,but, today, in my ice-breaker, I don't want to talk about myself. Rather, I want to talk about a book that I am writing. Please don't think that its a promotional campaign for my book :-) .
Like every attractive book, it will also have a beautiful cover that would make it stand right out among the other books in the book-shelf.I am so confident that the cover would be beautiful and attractive,because, I won't be designing the cover.
The first chapter of the book would talk about a boy who was born in the temple town of Madurai. Though he was born in Madurai and his parents , grand parents,uncles and aunties, everyone was from Tamil Nadu, still, he could never associate himself with the Tamil culture.He liked to call himself a Mumbaikar--not a Bombaiyite or a Mumbaite--mind you,but, a Mumbaikar--in the typical Marathi lingo.That was because, though he was born in Madurai,but, he was completely brought up in Mumbai and he used to love the city.See, anyone who lives in any city long enough, starts loving it,but, his fondness for the city was not because of time, but, because, he thought that Mumbai was a citythat thrived on ideas. It was a city where anyone could succeed, whatever be the parameters of success .Also, it was a city, where everyone --rich and poor--saw all the aspects of life everyday. For example, the Tatas and Ambanis, they may have costly cars costing crores of rupees,but, still they would have to travel in the pot-holed roads, they would still have to live in a polluted city , they would still have to see the orphaned children and street beggars everyday--just like an ordinary mumbaikar would see. The city ensured that everyone saw both the highs and lows, so that everyone would aspire to fly in the sky,but, would also be cautious enough to keep their feet firmly on the ground.So this was the lesson that our boy learnt from his love affair--fly high with your feet firmly on the ground.
The second chapter would talk about the boy's childhood. Our boy was from a typical middle class background.His mother was a school teacher and his dad was a scientist at BARC, Bhabha Atomic research Centre.All the kids in his colony,mind you, though I call it a colony,but, it actually housed more than 13000 families. I could say, it was bigger than even Madhapur(a place in Hyderabad).Anyway, all the kids in his colony had a lot of respect for BARC,for wasn't it the research institution that had put India on the international map by its peaceful usage of nuclear energy.But, our boy thought that that it was just a very successful hype campaign done by the government and that, like any other government institution, it was an epitome of inefficiency and beauracracy.When he was in the 9th std, he got a chance to see a nuclear reactor as part of a science excursion trip. The reactor that he saw was the Dhurva reactor.It was almost as tall as a 13-storwy building.To go to the reactor core, he had to cross a concrete wall of more than 10 feet thickness.(Mostly inconsistent data--but then our boy was neven good at estimations :-)). Luckily for him, the day he went, the reactor had been shut down for maintenance purpouses.So, he could go right into the core.(or what he though off as the core), and, he was dumb-struck by what he saw. The intricate layers of fuel rods, controllers, coolant pipes,etc looked like a real zoomed-in image of the intricate thread weavings in a cloth.He immediately realised that , what he was seeing was not some art work,but, an engineering marvel, that few other countries in the world had achieved.That day, for the first time in his life, he felt proud to be an Indian,and that day, our boy learnt the 2nd lesson of his life--don't make judgements until you have seen thing for yourself.
Well, I could keep on going about the various chapters of my book covering various aspects of our heroes life,but, you all must be wondering----tomorrow, if I want to go and buy the book , or if I want to go and read the book,then what will I tell the book-keeper or librarian?How will I recognise the book?So, let me conclude by telling you the name of my book. The book is titled--"My Life" by Krishnan Subramanian.
