Bong-ed

Trichy was as hot as it can get in the month of June; second only to the May. And thankfully, I wasn’t available at Trichy during May. The first day of counselling was smooth as I was one of the early visitors at NIT, Trichy and I made my choices that very first day. As expected, the campus was barren. I saw absolutely no girls as far as the horizon could curve. One could reach the end of the world, yet not find a single female species. I slowly started to realize the pulse of the sulking engineering life looming ahead. The next day, the results of counselling were announced and I had got into NIT Durgapur for Metallurgical Engineering. Heck! Where was that place now? And Metallurgy? What is that?

With a few like-minded would-be engineers around, I learnt that Durgapur and Metallurgy went hand-in-hand, like cigarette and smoke. I was first taken back by the unusual simile, but later on understood the pun intended. Discussing more on Bengali culture, food and Durgapur as a place; one particular information annulled every other drawback I had been hearing about the college. Bong girls. Their flamboyant attitude, innate beauty and contemporary elegance were nicely backed up with practical examples like the Sen Girls – Sushmita, Reema, Ria, Konkona, et al. I happened to have been inspired by a Tamil chick-flick called JJ, which was about a guy (hero played by R. Madhavan) searching for his love (heroine played by some beautiful female Bong actor) shot in Bengal. The magnificence of Kolkata scenes had enthralled me right then.

Until then I was of the opinion that the train to Kolkata travelled over the Howrah Bridge. On the contrary, I was gladly welcomed by the reality that one can even walk on the same, throw a couple of coins into River Hoogly and can have a look of the new Suspension Bridge across the river. All through my journey from Kolkata to Durgapur, I was intimidated by the Raxaul-bound crowd of Mithila Express. I was an independent bird, with wings of liberty. With a new-found fellow fresher in Sreenu, who was skeptical about ragging in the institute, I finally reached the place which had the scented aroma of iron ore and coal barracks.

I boarded the bus to the college which is known as R.E College in the local slang. I hadn’t sat in a public service bus (although run by private companies) as small as this and found it comparable to a matchbox on wheels. I was also astonished to note that there were no separate seat reservations for female passengers as one can find in TN buses. To my surprise, a beautiful Bong girl in a pink salwar, the most beautiful girl I have ever seen in my life, sat beside me. For a moment, I thought, this could not be true and to trust my fortune, instead of pinching myself, I pinched her by mistake. An angry grin, yes, an angry grin came across and I lauded myself for making Durgapur as the right choice.

If this was the case with luck when one lands for the first time in a city, I congratulated myself on how lucky things can get, thereon. To my utter dismay, which I came to discover much later, neither did I find that girl again in Durgapur, nor did I find that expected quality of beauty in Bong girls, in my four years’ stay sans the 1-2-3 pact that I had with Abi. Not knowing how abysmal my fortune would run, I started the journey in the Prantika-bound matchbox with an exciting career in heart and sleazy dreams in mind.

  

Sutta..

The cigarette was in my mouth. The urge to light it in front of her near the Prof. Canteen made me realize the importance that the cigarette gained over her. The cotton bud was tasteless, yet so soft. It took me back to the “Heat Transfer” class when my professor gave a problem to calculate the time taken for a cigarette to extinguish, while the tip is 810ºC with pre-determined values of latent heat of tobacco and length of the cigarette. The question carried on the onus of plotting the graph with MATLAB on varying lengths as well. Nevertheless, the one in my hand was the first one, out of my money. Two and a half bucks for a Navy Cut and the clear-cut path to cancer was sitting tightly between my lips. I lighted the match stick. It went out in a flash with the help of a strong breeze. I didn’t know the art of lighting a cigarette and I already was in my pre-final year. Struggling again, I tried, but, in vain. With ample shame, I asked the guy of the couple-next-bush to light it for me. He happily agreed and there went my first sutta into the bush and never came back - My first and the last cigarette.   

Moral of the story: Never share three things in life: Underwear, girlfriend and first sutta.

My first sweater..

The whole fury in the common room got over. People across the country got to a consensus that it’s each and everyone’s responsibility to extend their vacation until Diwali. I was the small town boy not understanding the dynamics that was taking the centre-stage. The mid-sems were causing abnormal bowel movements and cheating in the exams was not a part of the armory then. I was the plumpy 85-kg chap when I joined the institute who reduced to a 72-kg piece of meat over 3 months.

Come Durga Pujo, the vacations started with the most tiresome train journey defying the normal sleeping hours. Back in Chennai, people enquired about my place of study and the second question that followed was “Isn’t there a big Durga Ma temple in that place?”  I used to laugh it off saying it’s so grand a temple that you must pay a visit. Durgapur doesn’t mean that it has the biggest Durga Ma temple, similar to Puri, does it have the biggest Puri?

The vacations weren’t extended to Diwali as the earlier consensus was supposed to. After a couple of weeks, I was back in West Bengal. Meanwhile, my Ramzan month fast continued and it was bad to be back again with nothing else to expect from life, but to be ragged as first years. But, I was proved wrong. There was something in the climate that was changed. The air was a lot cooler and was as mesmerizing as the Bengali girls (not the ones in college). A single t-shirt no longer sufficed. A type of clothing unheard of, made its way into my wardrobe – woolen clothes. My first sweater, my first razai and my first wind-cheater, all made special appearances. I was for the first time in my life introduced to the loveliest of all seasons – “Winter”. Hailing from a tropical coastal city, rains and a chill weather with the mercury stooping to 20⁰C was all the winter I had seen in my life.

This experience was very different. Roomates fighting for the electrical heaters, the foggy mornings (of course not caused by grass smoking), the hot teas, the pleasant weather, the spectacles getting blurred while coming out of the computer laboratory, playing cricket with woolen clothes on, not able to decipher a girl’s figure because of her over-sized woolen clothes, days getting shorter and absolute bliss while hanging out in the evening with friends. I miss Durga Pujo, I miss the change that it brings into human life. The sense of calmness and tranquility that prevails can’t be expressed in words, but can be felt and remembered for a very long time. 

"Life" supplement of Sunday Times of Durgapur..

How many times have you felt your heart racing against time and skipping a beat, blood rush to your brains, Goosebumps all over your hands? Separate instances, remotely you can relate to, but, a sensational never-before-happened feeling when everything happens in concurrence. As I was driving my bike through the M.G.Road, I did not feel anything different. Prima facie, everything was the same, but, as the distance to the main gate reduced with the throbbing run down, the yesteryears flashed through. There, I used to walk the same road with a bunch of sweet idiots, pulling each others' legs, talking crap about the system (as though we are going to change it), looking up to how cool things are going to be when we start professionally working. Crazy ideas right from the thumping heart and nothing to do with the brains.

We saw what "change" was. How the change was from a single cell-phone (9832132172) in the whole wing to the ever-clicking refresh-button of Orkut pages. How information was and is passed on? How communication is being done? A single STD call used to cost us Rs.3 per min, but, now cross-country calls are free with Skype. I now hear from my then life-supporters (read it Sunny, LH mode Som, Techno Shambu-dha, Xerrrrrooooxxxx guy, et al.) how the crowd has changed and have become more tech-savvy or tech-addict. How much the people here are following the mundane sleep-classes-facebook routine. Life has become a routine for them, which we never had. A matter of concern being, very few people have fun the way we used to have. A "Like" notification is considered a more secure and appropriate way to start a conversation than hanging out in jhoops. With the increasing number of girls, there is more division in the groups. Without a question, the number of couples in the PMC (Piya Milan Chowk), Library, Rickshaws, Library-High voltage lab road has increased, but, is that what the four years vacations is all meant for?

Profs becoming stricter and not allowing students to cheat, 70% attendance becoming compulsory, physical and mental rectifications banned, very few strong groups, where are we heading to? All this may not have an immediate reflection on the way of life now, but, certainly its implications are far worse than to be imagined. But, I am happy for the fact that the crowd is more professionally oriented, more towards the engineering part of it. But, one thing I would like mention here is that, what we guys learnt was more than engineering, it was the way to think like an engineer. The attitude of life - Karo joh Dil Chahta hai, so that the euphoria does not die out. I am more than happy that I was at this place a few years ago, with the best people around and as a true spirit of a human being, I accept that I had the time of my life. Hail NIT-Durgapur...

Its for you..

The alarm rings at 7.15 a.m. Confusion arises whether Mr. Confused (from now onwards called Mr. C), capable enough to snooze it without opening his eyes. What a challenge? Mr. C pats himself on his shoulder (without opening the eyes) for achieving the feat quite comfortably. True are the words of Mr. Anonymous (though not a part of our anecdote, but, I have read in many books that Mr. Anonymous wants to be anonymous to everyone) "Practice makes perfect". Mr. C has been doing this for some three years now and he is a pioneer in his own way. Mr. C is an expert in sleeping. His room is immaculately clean with no roommates, not even cockroaches and lizards. Every day before sleeping, he checks out whether his windows' curtains are proper, all peepholes in his door closed with bits of newspapers and his 1.5GB trance music started to play in his desktop. Once the checks are over, he says "good night" to the whole world through his Gtalk and reduces the volume to minimum and covers himself with a black blanket from head to toe.

Back to present now. Time is 7.45 a.m.

"Sir, Breakfast", announces Mr. Bakra-the junior.

Mr. C shouts back his refusal with an imaginary slap, with the door being closed and shoos Mr. Bakra-the junior away with all the words one cannot imagine to hear. Innocently, Mr. Bakra-the junior hurries to the 8.15 am class. One good thing about Mr. C is that he does not keep his door locked. Anyone needing anything, be it toothpaste, pen, pencil, A4 sheets, calculator, novels, tea cup, et al. can just barge in and take without disturbing Mr. C's dream sequence with the latest supermodels of his erstwhile institute. Oops, I forgot to tell you. Mr. C is pursuing his engineering in some God-damn course, as even God does not know why he took it in some hell-I-love-u place in Waste Bangal. He knows for a fact that at 8.15 am his' HOD's class is there in which he has the max attendance of 20%. It is a proud moment that he can afford to miss that class to match with the other classes' single digit attendance.

Time is 10.15 a.m. Mr. Pathi-Parmeshwar-of-Kanchipuram (let us call him Mr. PPK) and Mr. Radio-Jockey-Madan (Mr. RJ) comes into the wing. Mr. RJ was Mr. C's roommate since first year and he knows exactly what Mr. C must be doing. Mr. PPK would have definitely known about Mr. C's itinerary had he not fallen a victim to Amnesia. He kicks Mr. C's door wildly and starts pulling his blanket off him and tries telling his usual unsuccessful-unhappy ending stints with the class. Irritated Mr. C yells at him in such a way that Mr. PPK takes his bicycle and goes to the nearby temple to pray to the Lord to forgive him for committing such a sin.

Mr. Dhadhi (Mr. D) now comes into the picture after his cynical classes which taught him nothing, but, how to message continuously in the class to his Ms. Poo. Mr. RJ and Mr. C are sick of making Mr. D understand the importance of final year and the amount of time he must spend on a cell-phone.

All Mr. D had to say was "Bro, its just an incoming call, I gotta attend. Its my friend yaar."

Mr. C and Mr. RJ thought "Don’t know where this friendship is going".

They would not have known that Mr. D has fallen in love with Ms. Poo, unless he was not their first year roommate. Mr. Gambit (Mr. G), the consigliori of this whole group of friends comes dejected to the wing after being chucked out of the class and his roll no. noted for the reason that he could not walk as straight as his HOD in the campus corridor. Mr. G's mate (still do not know what mate, sources say that they broke-up, but, never spread rumors), Mr. Bladekanth (Mr. B) after fighting with Mr. Alitya (Mr. A), the other night over a small issue (I will narrate the issue too), got drunk. His drink consisted of 5 parts of water with 1 part of Rasna Nimbu paani. He got high and walked exactly like his HOD in the Mahatma Gandhi Road. Known for his antics, Mr. B caught the attention of his HOD who was walking down the same road. The HOD feeling sympathized by the drunk-driven-deformity, advised Mr. B to take off from the classes and watch the JFUC (Japanese F**ked Up Cartoons), to improve his walking abilities as the characters in those cartoons use mantra-tantra to fly. But, on the other hand his soul-mate, Mr. G got chucked out of the class for inability to walk like his HOD.

Few days ago, Mr. Liver (Mr. L), a champion AOE-player and an awesome footballer was playing a one-on-one FIFA'07 with Mr. B over the LAN and as usual Mr. B's D-button was not working. He lost the match 7-0 which was the worst loss of his career. As usual, in the dinner table, Mr. A pulled Mr. B's legs for his tragic loss. I personally feel that, that incident did not trigger the fight. Mr. A must have complained and cursed the mess food badly. Mr. B being a loyal member of the We-eat-the-mess-food-society (Mr. G was also a member of that society - may be that brought them together) was enraged and left the place with plates flying, for a drink to calm himself down.

Back to 10.15 a.m.

Mr. Placement-Rags (Mr. R) enters the wing shouting, "Hey, DOTA, DOTA, DOTA, anyone for DOTA????"

Honestly, I do not know DOTA's full-form. His face filled with questions of who all will join the game, but, not about the recent zero that he scored in the class test. There comes running from one corner of the wing to another, Mr. NIT-ian (Mr. N) and wakes up Mr. C and asks him, "Hey, Have you got DOTA installed onto your comp".

Mr. C growlingly dismisses it.

Mr. N replying in his Cypriot accent, "Hey, You are a big waste. All you know is Gtalk and girls. There is life beyond that too."

Mr. C shows him the tallest of his fingers of his hand to Mr. N. But, he is not bothered and resumes his begging for a DOTA-installed-computer. Finally, settled with Mr. RJ's comp and in the process Mr. N kicks out Mr. PPK and Mr. PPK is again anxious about completing his presentation for a seminar next month. Room-less, Computer-less, Mr.PPK slowly creeps into Mr. C's room and without disturbing his sleep sits on his computer and resumes his work. Finally, Mr. C wakes up with a letter from Mr. Stick-Message-Service (Mr.SMS), about him being treated badly the other day by Mr. C. Mr. D comes into the room and reads the letter loudly, "I just wanna say HI." Rest was undecipherable. Even, Mr. D, who has the horrible handwriting, did not have a clue. So, Mr. C woke up the man with the worst handwriting on earth, Mr. A. To his surprise even Mr. A could not decipher it. Mr. L enters into the scene. Do not know what Allahabadic-bonds he had with Mr. SMS that he read out the letter fully, giving importance to minute details as if it was a love-letter written by the newly appointed Biotech mam.

Putting an end to the issue and waving a "HI" to Mr. SMS, Mr. C and Mr. A left for their appointment to have breakfast at the Jhoops. On the way, discussing about the recent T20 champion team of India, they met the star of all these friends' hearts - Mr. Kuzhandhai. Busy with an electrifying project and some important work with recommendations for his higher studies, he signaled thumbs-up for his success in wooing the Director of the college to give him a recommendation letter. Mr. A had planned already – It is a party tonight.

Studious among these 12 attended the classes, which perfectly equated to the number that cannot be expressed in Roman numerals. In the evening, Mr. D cried for the first time after they all made fun of him. Then, Mr. PPK almost tried proving a point of postponing the treat due to some sentimental issues. Things followed and they all went for Mr. Kuzhandhai's treat and came back to their rooms singing old songs all the way from CR. A day to remember, humanly impossible to forget the others too. And they never had a group photo together because they believed in human memory which cannot be erased. That is college life and we all say "Love you ABI, you are our Hero".

Currently in

Mr. N - Amdocs, Cyprus (Lap dance Baby!!).

Mr. SMS - Noble teacher, CADD (Tamizh girls, beware of him).

Mr. A - North Carolina State University, USA (God knows what he is doing there).

Mr. G - Reliance Energy Ltd., Krishnapattinam (No work, paid well).

Mr. B - Wipro, Cochin (Bladekanth to Rajnikanth, Phew, Finally) .

Mr. PPK - Sesa Goa, Goa. (again unsatisfied).

Mr. C - Vedanta Aluminium Ltd. (as always confused).

Mr. D - Buffalo State University, USA (Still on phone).

Mr. R - DRDO, Pune (Deshdrohi Scientist).

Mr. RJ - Wipro, Bengalluru (Cochin ain't that far dude, Neel is there to take care).

Mr. L - CSC, Indore (But, lives in Liverpool).

Mr. Kuzhandhai - In our hearts forever..

Tribute to the Lecture(r)s...

Lectures taking a toll,

We just wanna have a free fall,

Watching them teach, we lol,

We wanna Rock 'n' Roll.

Neither they know anything,

nor we gain something,

Sleeping in the class is so soothing,

Getting caught should be the last thing.

What mistake did we commit?

Dunno whether we or they 'The Imperfect Fit',

They deliver by forcibly making us sit,

Better give on my head a nice hard hit.

Oh Jesus, please forgive us,

We can't take what the prof. does,

They wanna squeeze our juice,

But, we just wanna cut out loose.

Give me Capital punishment,

or the brutal life imprisonment,

Both are better than than this heavy taunt,

What is called the Lecture stint...

V for Vedanta

Getting into Vedanta Resources was my dream from my first year. Now, I am in the final year and really happy that I have achieved my dream. Let me take you through my road to Vedanta from a few months back.

Everything was okay. Everything was fine. The month was March, 2007. Roses and lilies bloomed in the dawn. The same old chai at jupes with the ever best french toast at Sunny's. Profs growled in the classes. Scooters and "Durgapur Jaabe" buses waggled their way through. Life lacked new action. Old actions did prevail but, out of odds, they didn’t seem that interesting. Cricket season started. NIT, Durgapur rejuvenated with the passion for cricket. Teams lined up with cricket in their hearts and rivalry in their minds. The atmosphere was terrific. Our team was tipped as one of the three teams to win the exciting tournament as I led the team from the front. We thrashed the junior level teams on the way to our semi-finals where we met 'The Warriors'. They were awesomely balanced old rivals who ranked the best after 'The Mckenzies'. Old rivalry rattled our blood. Every ounce of our energy pushed us towards the glorified goal. Our game plan was perfect. The semis started. Right from ball no.1 we were on top. We restricted them to a modest total. But, when it was time to reply, we lost our nerves. We could not hold on to a lovely opportunity. We dropped it, shattered. We lost. None could believe. "Another set of batting collapse. They are perfectly suited for the Indian cricket team". These were the criticisms that we received. Nevertheless, they were true. 

Lesson learnt: Hold on to your nerves. You lose them, you are doomed.

The very same month, there was this Assistant General Secretary Elections. None were particularly interested in the college. I contested the elections and lost it in spite of being tipped as the winner. But, that is the way it works. I could not take it anymore. I faced two devastating failures in a span of two weeks. My dear friends stood by me. "But, where did it all go wrong?" was the question looming over my head. Yeah, I got the answer. It is the way politics work. 

Lesson Learnt: Destiny is scribbled in your forehead. It is all in how you understand the handwriting and do believe them.

As time passed, I plunged into the exam season. Yeah, you are absolutely right. We are in April now. Durgapur slowly started with the summer. Scorching heat built up. Software companies started visiting the campus for recruitment. I did not appear for even one of them as I read my destiny very clearly that it is Vedanta Resources that is calling me. Did you miss something? Yeah, you certainly did. It was Cricket World Cup 2007. Hostels were ablaze with Cricket ruining again. "Thank god, India was out in the first round only" was the exclamation of 99% of the parents throughout the land of diversified cultures. But, we were hardcore cricket fans. Exams do not matter to us. It is all about cricket to us. We watched till Mandira Bedi bid us Babbye. Of course, Mandira did matter a lot to me. For a fortnight, our lifestyle changed. We were teleported to the West Indies and gave a damn for the exams. It was all rosy at that time except for when the results were declared. (Results were declared in May end. So, will tell you about that when I describe May).

Lesson Learnt: No particular lesson learnt as failures only teach you nice hard lessons.

Back home. It was summer vacations and the time to party. Yeah, it is the month of May. Chennai was also excruciatingly hot with the magnitude same as that of Durgapur, but, with one consolation. Food is really excellent out there and family always by your side. It feels excellent was also on cards with the dates for Vocational training nearing. I was aiming at the planets which were very far away, but, later realized that they belonged to a different set of universe. The companies that I applied were not really interested in having me as their intern. Nevertheless, luck betrayed me. I was about to have got it in two companies, but, again the luck Gods were against me. I did not lose heart. Tried through my resources and finally settled with a firm near my locality. I started my training in a subject for which I had the least interest (because that was what I got). But, I made up my mind that this is the subject that offered me a shelter, so, I will put my full efforts into it. In vain, the subject did not interest me at all. By the last week of May, I completed my training. The day I completed my training, I was relieved. My plans for Vedanta were shaken by some intermediate disturbances, but, I did tackle them properly and secured a decent training regime and completed it successfully. But, that was not the end. The very same evening, my very close friend called me up and the news that he gave shocked me and threw me right out of the universe. I received a suppli (arrear) in one of the exams that I had given during that cricketing season. Again, I was shattered. I was obviously down, but, I got used to failures after failures. My friend did offer me words of comfort, but, I lost my dream. I was doomed forever. Because of my cricket lunatics, I was driven into the world of unknown. What next? The answer was just an asymptote to me.

Lesson Learnt: However hard you try to make some things happen, it always is the destiny's wish which cannot be overpowered. Do your duty, never expect the fruit.

The month of June never seemed good even. My brain was tired. My preparations for my dream company approached a dead end with a brisk halt. I felt so low, hollow. Nothing was left in me to work for. I was a bag of bagasse with flesh and bones. A zombie, who wakes up every day, does his normal stuffs and sleeps into the slumber of unknown. I did not have anything to offer to this world. But, I am just a minuscule in this entire universe. Why does it have to bother about me? To add to my pain was the fact that the reopening date of my college was postponed. Life was at the peak of its pain which meant that the conduction of the suppli (arrear) exams would be delayed further and the possibility of getting a good job is out of bounds. I laughed outside, cried inside. Every moment killing me and asking me the existence of my life.

Lesson Learnt: All you can do is to smile back, when adversities laugh at you.

As I had mentioned, the reopening dates were slated for 23rd July. That was hell a lot of time. According to my calculations I would get a job (irrespective of what job it is) only in the latter half of August. Now, I planned to move the case to the concerned professor. Tell him the truth that I wrote the paper exactly for pass mark and I did not deserve a suppli. I reached college a week earlier. Met my prof and explained him my position. He did not accept. He asked me to prepare for my suppli exam. But, to leave no stones unturned I applied for re-checking. He and my H.O.D called me and asked me to leave hopes for the suppli to be cleared and prepare well for the exam. Last week of July, L&T visited my campus for recruitment. I was ready for it. Their eligibility criteria were such that, that it suited me perfectly. I cleared the written. I was invited to give the interview at Kolkata. I went to Kolkata a day before, with perfect preparations and my interview was on 29th July at 9.00 a.m. I reached on time and my interview was too good. They offered me the posting also, but, later I did not find my name short-listed. I was dejected. All my friends back in Durgapur were expecting a good news, but, later they were also shocked to hear that I did not get through. I said to myself that I had this anti-midas touch. Whatever I touched turned into failures. When I was about to board the train back to Durgapur, I casually browsed through the newspaper stand and bought my usual magazine which ironically had its cover story on Mr. Anil Agarwal, Chairman, Vedanta Resources. It was a nicely timed comedy and even the press had to tease me through my failure. When I reached Durgapur, my friends were always there for me and offered me a cozy environment to forget what happened. They told me that the best is still in store for me. It was not a failure. I was cheated this time. The job was in my hand, but, someone just snatched it away from me.

Lesson Learnt: No lesson learnt. My hatred grew long and hard. My belief in destiny took a U-turn.

This is the month. August turned my life upside down. 1st of August, I went to meet my prof about my preparation for the suppli, so that he could help me with some topics which I did not understand. I approached his room. I asked him my doubts and he shot back at me back on why I am asking him the sixth semester portions. I told him that the suppli date is 10th August and he needs to help me out in certain topics. But, he answered back by telling the good news of my life. He cleared my suppli in re-checking and I straight away knew that I deserved to be cleared. I am eligible to appear for my dream company. Now, no one can stop me. The very same day I resumed my preparations from where I had left at that brisk halt. I prepared for the day. It was slated for August 6th. I was mentally prepared. My confidence level reached new heights. The day came and what happened next was history.

Lesson Learnt: Believe in your destiny.

Everything will be ok in the end. If it is not ok, it is not the end.