HANGOVER

Thank heavens my exams are over and i can write my blog in peace ...far from the madding crowd ...well literally far from the crowd ...my exams are over and me and some of my friends are staying back in the hostel for Robotics classes.

The exams are well over , but what remains is the deathly hangover from the traumatic exam experience ...i am yet to recover my habit of sleeping for 10 hours straight.Seriously folks , the way they show it in movies how a disturbing experience can throw your life off balance...it was happening to me ...

Of course it wouldnt have lasted if i had escaped home the day the exams were over ...most of my friends were enjoying back at home ...happily sipping away at the hot brew made by mom and laughing their heads off at my situation. Yes here i was stuck in my hostel having all sorts of nightmares about my exams ...
Take last night for straters I woke up at 4 am..it was deathly silent and eerie.where were all the people i wondered , as i took a quick visit to the bathroom.During the exam time most of the guys would be frantically pacing the corridors in their pyjamas looking like deranged victims of a lunatic asylum. Books and notes in hand , they would be trying to cram into their heads all sorts of info that had eluded them since the last few months.

Ok so after i came back to the room , Niteshs room to be precise ,rubbing my bleary eyes i opened the AEC book and turned to a page .And just when i was poised to scribble a few formulas when it hit me ....For heavens sake , my exams are over ...what the hell was i doing . And then i realised the emotional scars the exam had left on me.
I was never a person to be afflicted with any sorts of nervous disorders , but the 3rd sems were killing me from inside. If it hadnt been the company of my friends who too were on the same frustration plane , i would have never have read for the exams.

Imagine people falling asleep in the hall and then scratching off their papers to reappear for the exam once again.Such was the harrowing experience for us in the cold dreary December month. The invigilators were no help either ...they would constantly harass us with their annoying invigilatoring(no such verb , just made it up).Why the very word INVIGILATOR had a grand inquisitorial sound to it. I remember one invigilator ....not disclosing his name for safety reasons , switching off the fans in the sweltering summer , so that he could pick out any faint murmuring from the crowd. Such people shpuld be hung upside down and whipped.

Thats why to rid myself the memories of the exam i have torn all the question papers in my sight and lit them up , devilishly smiling as i watched them go up in flames. One more effect of the exam hangover is that , i keep checking the time and almost feel an uncanny unease when the clock strikes 9 : 30 (the start time of the exams), i still cant get to open my watch and sometimes keep checking the time in the middle of the night.I've been wearing it since the exams started and havent opened it yet. I get dreams about exam question papers talking to me and laughing at me ....chasing me to a cliff.....and i wake up from this nightmare all sweaty.

Really....... Paranoia is creeping up inside my head...and unless i go home soon , i will be one of the unfortunate victims of exam hysteria.

Anyways happy holidays folks ...dont worry about me , ill pull through...Enjoy the winter.

Pursuit of happYness

It was during my exams that i got some time to watch Will Smith's Pursuit of Happyness. And what it taught me that night was more than simply to marvel at the film's storyline and message. The subtle and touching message it delivers is inexplicable , rather it is like the wind . You cannot see it or comrehend it , but you sure can feel it.

In all my past blogs there has been an undercurrent of humour and comic timing ......always appearing as the jester....but for once i decide to open up and reveal my inner tribulations.
The odd semester has really been dead boring ...starting from the month of the Monsoons to the cold winter , i am finally relieved that our exams are half over.

The experiences in this semseter truly make me introspect that i too like Will Smith am in the pursuit of happiness.Yes what the film taught me was that there was no ends to justify the means ...there is no destination called happiness ....its how you find time to laugh at life's little rays of sunshine amidst the dark storm laden clouds.

The first year was all about the sheltered life in the hostel ...protected by the teachers , seniors fearing to toy with the ragging directives ample time to behave crazy .....the sole rulers of our own hostel .....free to shout our heads off.
But it all changed when my second year life started .....

I ve lost a few things and gained quite a lot of experience over these few months ... you know the odd sems are quite boring in UCE , but i would beg to differ .....it was these months that have made me realise that to remain happy , life need not be rosy all the way........It is the moments of despair that force you to reach out to that flicker of optimism in the corner of your heart.

Just recently , when i learnt about my attendance back in a theory paper , i was shellshocked ...all sorts of morbid possibilities ran through mind in those few moments when i saw my name on the dreaded list.....but it was a comment by my branch mate Tulu that made me roll with laughter .......SHIT ...FUCK he said ....what happened ? i asked and to my surprise he replies ....."They have spelled my name wrong on the list" ....Imagine the comic timing ...here was a guy who was not worried about the repurcussions of a back paper ...the stigma associated with it ...rather was angry at his name being spelt wrong .......

AND at that moment i realised that life will always deal out to you a bad card ....your job is to take it with a pinch of salt. As i walked back to my hostel i realised that without the back i would have been happy but now that i have a back ....its my job to find happiness in the next few days and muster all my courage to face the bitter truth. I know that i will be smiling after i have cleared my back paper....and would be thinking that "would i be so happy if i didnt have a back", would i have felt the same happiness and relief without it ....maybe.... maybe not.But what has happened has happened.Nothingi can do but to shrug my shoulders and get on with life , because if these trivial things would start to worry me , then i was in no way equipped to handle life's bigger challenges

This period is really testing me , but i am happy taht i have my friends and parents by my side.These days will pass and the fun and frolic of the hostel life would erase all bad memories.
"It is after the darkest hours of the night that finally give way to dawn", I know this fact and eagerly waiting for these days to pass...

THE LONG AND SHORT OF IT..........

Ever heard of the adage ....Birds of a feather flock together

Ever heard of another one.....Opposites attract . Put them in one context and what you get is an OXYMORON.

Let me go back a little and then explain to all my readers the logic of the analogy provided.

People ..........spring was yet to come, green shoots were yet to spring forth from the ground........ and the fickle cupid had struck. People were falling in love left , right and centre. My gang was hell bent on teasing me until i turned red ...and it was'nt even confirmed....hell Atreyee had ditched me for another guy(of course that is of doubtful authenticity whether he was a guy or not ........... he was more of a CASSANOVA ). 1000 bucks say that their hopless love story doesn't last.Actually I had lost interest in her ...always sulking as if someone had spilled catdung in her breakfast....and foremost of all she had taken an absolute dislike to my blogs ...which was a cardinal sin.....

The UBER COOL gang of Prateek , Lohit, Debasish ,Anurag , Nishan and Agnish always had a word to say whenever i strolled into their rooms.......the happily single Yours truly was dogged with comments about my ex-girlfriend.....and somewhere in between somebody else was slowly being entrapped in the throes of love.....GUESS WHO???

Still guessing............well it was Prateek and the mystery girl ? .....well i had'nt a slightest clue as to who she was until very recently. Yep........... also a good friend and arguably one of the coolest girls of our batch ...Ankita Behera. yes people you have read correctly , cool people do fall in love ....of course i am an exception

Well i can write this blog with ease knowing that neither Prateek nor his girlfriend would kill me in my sleep if i write about them in my blog ...for both of them were good friends....its cool when good friends fall in love ...cos atleast you can joke and fool around and no one would feel bad.

But what really amazed me is the suddenness of the lovestory.....no one knew about their story ...there were no hushed phone calls, no first date sightings by our college mates , no secluded place talks .....would have fooled even an hardcore CIA agent.Yep the cool pople fraternity fall in love like this ......and good news all BPL people it doesnt even cost much ...ive never seen Prateek shed money on expensive and completely useless gifts...not to mention that he hasn't given me my treat yet.

Yes ...now coming to the cliched proverbs used by me at the outset....ok no hard feelings Ankita ....she was just 5 feet and Prateek was around 6 feet..........thus justifying the nomenclature of the blog ...She was a caring girl who never gave any her assignments to her juniors and yet Prateek would'nt stop at a chance to rag a junior and hand him bundle of assignments. and that is probably where all their differences end.

And their similarities are many.......Both of them are bundles of energy , both of them enjoy participating in various college fests...both of them are comfortable with seniors.............both of them think global ....both of them are optimistic and are never influenced by small talk.And foremost of all both of them are impulsive and have a scant regard of rules and the status quo.

I remember Ankita for getting a severe dressing down from the warden of the Ladies Hostel for secretly buying and bursting crackers.

She has no frills about her and is direct and straight forward in her approach , just like my chum Prateek.And BOTH OF THEM ARE CRAZY.......

But what i doubt is Ankita has a penchant for tall guys ....first Agnish was the probable suitor( no hard feelings Agnish ...that was just a standing joke amongst us ) and then Prateek.Of course the guy used reverse psychology....he would always tease Agnish and at last ended with her himself...well u cant fool me for long.....the sudden disappearances from our hostel would evidently result in a visit to the LH......

I once went with him to the LH and what we got there was nothing less than a -soccer- stand- full- of chanting- masses- approach.

Strains of "Dekho Chand Aaya ,Chand nazar aaya rent the air and wouldnt give the lovebirds a chance to talk properly.

Their love story was the talk of the town....be it the hallways or the hostels... wherever both of them were sighted...it elicited a host of comments and sniggers from the crowd.

an example - i once overheard someone saying that for Prateek to kisss Ankita he ould have to exactly bend 45 degrees and kiss her from a distance of exactly one feet. Still dont get the drift ...well she differed from him in height by exactly one feet and if he stood one foot apart , according to Pythagoras theorom his angle of depression would be exactly 45 degrees....(and who says that Maths is boring)

of course it would be rude of me to mention the other comments ......but their couple was certainly an odd one ...

Cupid certainly would have had a hard time trying to adjust his love arrows on this couple ..

so for all those who have been searching for girlfriends who exactly complement them ...take a leaf out of this couples book. All the best to Prateek and Ankita and yes ....Prateek the first time you try to kiss her ...just remember dear old Pythagoras....

Catch all of you later after my exams

Cheerio folks.

BELOW POVERTY LINE

My parents would kill me when they find out that i live like this in the hostel.....pause ....wait a minute most parents would kill their wards(ok wards would be an understatement ....it would only be boys , as girls always have loads of cash on them anytime) when they find out about the cash strapped existence. Economists throughout the world are stumped by the fact how a huge amount of Rs. 1000/- flies out of our wallet in a mere 5 days .....ok i admit i spend my pocket money like the world is about to end tomorrow.

6 cups of tea in the morning ,2 packets of high calorie biscuits and loads of icecream and soft drinks in the afternoon are some of the necessities that i spend my money on........

RESULT.....

i've finished off my soap and have to bathe in shampoo until i get my next pocket money....but there is always friends in the nearby rooms who are glad to lend me soaps ,provided it hasn't already been handed down or stolen from some 3o other people ....and buckets are public property ...imagine 18 people in one wing 10 buckets and 5 of them are of questionable ownership. Last time i remember i had my own bucket when i was in the first year....and that is all i remember. Countless times i have already asked for money to buy a bucket from home ...and the bucket buying venture remains in the pipeline.
Coming to the most necessary of daily use items ....the DEO..One can survive on a healthy dose of deo even without bathing for 30 days straight. FYI the clothes line acts as a local anesthesia for some ...anyone passing by the line would end up in the bio hazard quarantine unit.

Coming back to the cash issue ..my best policy is to take Rs. 20 in the pocket and end up eating fare worth Rs. 50 from my friends ...the golden rule is to never sit with the same branch guys twice in the same week. They end up sniffing your bait and they don't let you anywhere near their plates. Even by mistake if you get anywhere near their plates they first take the opportunity of spitting on the food stuff...how rude is that.

Moving on to the academic department the last time i had brought a pen was when i started engineering.Imagine 54 pens in my pen stand and not a single one mine......some of them come from my wing-mates ..some from seniors ....and hell..... some even come from the lab teachers.
One copy ...9 different handwritings etched both on the front and the back ....with doodles on the cover page ... Ok the copy was mine ..i had lent it to different people( don't underestimate my magnanimity) I can proudly announce that i have never spent my money on a copy from the start of my second year in engineering.

And to mention some of my fraternity members who always support me with aid in times of need....NITESH DAS ....the best thing about him is that once you start calling him a miser he ends up throwing money on your face ...i like people who get mad when you call them misers.The most cardinal mistake that people make is when they invite me to tea.One tea costs a meager Rs. 3 but i take the humble opportunity of gulping down 6 glasses and then consuming 2 huge chunks of cake and the bill comes out to be a staggering Rs. 40.And after reading my blog Nitesh is promising me a treat........see the effect always works...

Thanks to some of my wing-mates i even have access to their wardrobe. Last time i was anchoring in the film festival of our college ...I had to borrow a shirt , a pair of pleated pants ...a pair of shoes and even the damn comb...ok folks the underwear was mine ...or was it ????

But the best thing about being sans cash is that you can think of ingenious ways of making money ...ok all of them don't have to be morally correct...in the first year we had engineering drawing classes ..we had to submit sheets of incomprehensible drawings of machine parts in one week.So i hit upon a plan to extract money from complete idiots who were too lazy to do their own drawings...i tried it on my friend Mrudu who paid me a stagering rs. 70 for a single sheet ...when all that my friends were paying Rs.10 per sheet...i managed to find some more idiots who i wish not to name who paid off my canteen dues.....please dont feel bad Mrudu ...u got an A++ on that sheet.From this just imagine the depths that a BPL engineer can go to fill his stomach :)

So for all those people who detest the cash strapped existance always remember the engineering pledge ...LOOK AT THE FACE OF THE POOREST ENGINEER YOU HAVE EVER SEEN AND REMEMBER ME.... AND CONTEMPLATE THAT YOUR CASH WILL ONE DAY MAKE AN ENGINEER WHO WILL BUILD THE FUTURE....A VERY WISE INVESTMENT.....CASH AND DEMAND DRAFTS ARE ACCEPTED ...PLEASE MAIL THEM TO Room no. 58 west Hostel , VSSUT Burla.

PAIN ....

Ever thought what pain really defined ???
The inner meaning of the innocous four lettered word ......
Let me give you an insight about this word from the perspective of an engineer ..

PAIN is when you accidentally staple your tongue to the assignment you have been working on in the dead of the night ....

PAIN is what you feel when you are in the mood for a missed call and the receiver ends up just picking the phone ...

PAIN is what you end up getting when the next party bill gets credited to your account ...

PAIN ....oh the excruciating pain of those birthday bumps from the friends who seem like cronies of Adolf Hitler bent on wrecking every single bone on your body ....

PAIN....bone shattering pain is when you get hid on the head with a Krezig book during a fight ....

PAIN is what you feel on the aftermath of a booze party when you find that your purse is missing and your head feeling like the battlegrounds of Waterloo..

PAIN in the neck .... the perfect expression for those nosy little self conceited girls in the front benches who warm up to the teacher as if the sun shone from the teachers ass.

PAIN in the ear is what you get when you are on the receiving end of your Mom's phone call asking about this months expenditure...

Hope you get the drift about the real meaning of pain ....and all that bullshit about pain and suffering being the part of life is really true if you dont find my insight true then try stapling you ongue to your assignment and see how it feels.......

EXAMS...not exactly my cup of tea...

Bloodshot eyes , a stomach groaning with an overdose of coffee, invectives rolling off the tongue like a car on a slick driveway, and frantically pacing the corridors at 2 am in the morning ....these are some of the scenes that you would encounter in my hostel when the exams are knocking on the door (well knocking on the door would be an overstatement,it was just 5 hours away ) ....been there, done that ...would be the verdicts of our seniors and would shrug it off with an indifferent flick of the shoulders .....but the experience is really nerve racking.

Imagine just 4 hours left and there is still a frighteningly large portion to cover ....this is the time when all common sense flies out of the window ...where logic and imagination take the back seat and its time for plain old rote learning ...well guys this is not a reflection of my dumbness (its 3 in the morning and i have to stick paper clips to my eyes from falling shut ....imagine trying to figure out some dumbass question like ...what will be the excitation current for this circuit blah...blah...blah).

Ever wondered how the human body can cope with trauma ...well its just a mystery to me too...i dont know how the hell i survive the exam day ...someday i feel like i would keel over and die in the exam hall from slogging in the previous night....24 hours without sleep ...try that out and in the exam hall you would feel like your mind has shut down all response to stimuli and is only focussed on putting your pen to the damn paper..and the cacophony of pens scrawling on the paper would lull you to sleep.

But the fun part about the exams is that you need noit cram your head with all sorts of needless information ..there is always scope for some collabaration.And also there are always reday reckoners handy during the time of exams ....
l
Still wondering about how progressive the exam system has become ...DONT ..all these fancy terms are just euphemisms for cheating ...i choose to mention these terms since i have a huge female fan following and the word cheating would elicit gasps from them ...

There are 3 modes of operation for cheating and they all depend on the finesse with which you can carry out the job ....
first is the innocous looking chits concealed in the dress ...only an expert con would know how to extract as much info from the chit as possible ...you have to have that cool nonchalant look on your face while shamelessly copying from it ..any sign of tension will give you away ...NOT RECCOMENDED FOR THE WEAK HEARTED..

And for the next level of conmen there is always the scope for copying straight from the book.....but that would mean spending ungodly hours in the toilet which sometimes spells doom for them as the invigilator would suspect foulplay ...although after the legalising of Article 377 five to six boys in the same toilet cubicle would surprise not even the hardened invigilator.

For the last and true guys who are respected throughout the conmen community , they are the ones who have had a goodnight's sleep before the exam day , who can proudly retort when asked that they have'nt yet opened the polythene cover on their books....who have mastered the treacherous domain of cheating ....who have weathered any kind of situation thrown to them ....

Their chits , tucked in various parts of their apparel would seem like they are embarking on a covert CIA mission .....and etched on the backs of their palms would be the roadmap to their chits........

Once a friend of mine tried this technique but forgot the roadmap ...and ended up being caught with chits dangling from his underwear....
Well the vagaries of the exam system continue to frustrate the happy-go-lucky existance of students and every year new techniques would come up to cope with the market demand ....


One last remainder of the trauma of the morning-after-the-night-before ....I ask one of my friends ...I feel like my head is a jumbled data bank ... i dunno how i'll fare in the exams .... "well" he replies yours is atleast a data bank ......mine is data blank...


Best of luck....people for your next exams....

CLASSROOM CAPERS part 3

Actually friends this blog was due from very long time back....due to some prior commitments i haven't been able to upload as frequently as possible....

My last posts in my blog have all been about the revelry of my friends at the back ....you all thought that life in the dregs of the class was all about fun and games....but you thought wrong.
Most of the times we have to bear the brunt of many of our plans misfiring and causing some of us to be given a severe dressing down.

Did you ever have any one of those periods when everything you did backfired on you ...when bad luck came not in handfulls but in droves ????
Well sample this....
I am already late for the class and my roommate has scooted to the class with my banyan ..frantically searching through the laundry dump for a spare i come across a banyan that smells like the hostel mess dustbin(i even think i can see a cockraoach that has mutated by living in it ....you can safely assume that i disposed of it in a BIOHAZARD container.
Wearing a T shirt underneath I had to slip on my formals for the class .....
And folks this is where the fun starts .I was too busy tucking my shirt in ,that i had forgotten to look where i was going....and my foot slipped on the stairs ...my roomate was down and i came tumbling after (Poor Jack) . I was already 15 minutes late and i had skipped my breakfast. Tummy groaning and my head swimming with the constellations of Milky way ...i hobbled off to the class ..
Huffing and panting as i reached the class late and much to my consternation i found that the teacher had not showed up yet safely adhering to the IST standard (Indian Stretchable Time ).
With the humidity outside and thanks to the fans that had not been repaired since world war 2 ...i was profusely sweating and had to take off my formal shirt ....

RELIEF Tshirts are such a god send ...i could almost kiss the designer of the T shirt...it felt relly good to be in casual wear...
15 minutes into the class and the noise in the class was rising to a crescendo ...just as the noise was poised to blow the roof away ....suddenly a deathly silence enveloped the class. It was as if the class had just switched to mute..
What the hell just happened ...i was wondering ...i stood up to survey the situation ..looked back and yet i still could'nt fathom the reason for the unearthly silence ...Why so serious I shout out ?? Come on you RASCALS why did you stop your murmuring (OK murmuring would be an understatement ..it was more likely to be defined as an uproar )..

Again as i turned back to my utter horror behind me was standing the most hated and dreaded professor of our college.. Prof AN Nayak ...an insight into the man's character would in no way endear you to him either..
The most corrupt , dishonest , loud mouthed , mean teacher of all was standing behind me and i was yet to stand up and wish him....it was as if my legs had turned into deep freeze mode ...i was waiting for the earth to part so that i could be saflely embraced by terra firma ...

And then he exploded....WHAT THE HELL IS THIS ....wearing such indecent dresses to class and disturbing the sanctity of the class......

Si...Si....Si was all i could stammer ...all that vocabulary that i am proud of had vanished in an instant

And then he sighted my formal shirt on the table ...all scrunched up like a resturant washcloth....and i could hear fireworks iin the backdrop...what followed next ...i have very little recollection of ....

Something about my culture ...my family.......... and all other teacher abuses you have ever heard.He picked up the shirt with the crook of his hand and threatened to throw it out of the window. For all my readers who have read my previous blog may be knowing that what dire financial straits i am in ....and throwing a shirt out of the window would mean a serious loss from my depleted wardrobe.

And then with all the bravado and assuming airs he thundered ....D you know who i am ?? although a very insignificant question (the whole college knew about this prick of a professor)

And funnily........... as if it was an involuntary reflex i started to shake my head signlling NO.

All common sense had flown out of the window that day.

He had'n t expected such a reaction and looked as if his head was going to blow off......

I shoul have been standing with my head bowed in a posture that signalled supplication...yet i was standing with my hands in my pocket as if i was challenging him for a duel(I could have levelled him with a single blow if it came to a fight though...)

I told you all common sense had flown out of the window that day.

After the usual threats of calling my parents and all those throwing-me-out-of the hostel shit , he let me off with a wrning .My ears were ringing from such a verbal assault....

F**k You i ......wondered and was just starting to show the worldwide accepted hand gesture ....when he turned .....thank god i had the common sense to instatntly stick them into my pockets.....(Thanks to my cargoes).

Fate had already played it's fickle game with me once ...i was'nt to be fooled the nest time.....

With this i sign off repeating one of my friend's favorite adage ...LET DOWN BY LUCK ALWAYS....

see i told you now unluckily my net connection seems to have ditched me too... :(

CLASSROOM CAPERS part 2

Whew......that was a close shave ....most of my classroom shenanigans have been limited to the back benches of my own classroom.But living life off the edge is my second nature and the charm of siiting in the back of my own section soon weared off..... so yours truly visited the Manufacturing Science section .

Now that section is a totally different ballgame ...electrical consists of 72 students all bent on adding to the cacophony in the class,while Manu. had only 30 students and that too only a handful had ever dared to create a disturbance...
Walking into the class , i was greeted by my friends in Manu,happy that a BBCian was joining the ranks .And my friend Mridu had a confounded look on her face when she saw me in the class. But the class was a small one and it had no escape routes PROBLEM....
But hardcore BBCians relish the challenge...
and i had spoken too soon .....
in waltz in the Fluid dynamics ma'am and MY GGGOOODDD she was a stunner ...
if my readers had ever read my previous blog "Who said love was blind......"then they can fathom the kind of feelings that coursed through me when i saw her.
She had turned my heart to a warm fluid and i was swimming in my dreams fantasising about going on a date with her..
And then just when life seems to be all rosy ...it comes out to screw you
SURPRISE TEST she hollered ....Damn ! *&^^%$%@ (sorry guys these expletives are all censored).For the first time i am in the class and i have to appear in a surprise test ...GOD whose face had i glanced to be in such a quandry (probably my own ).And then i knew that i was to be thrown out of the class when she would see my copy.OK time for some countermeasures ....
Next to me (Thank God) was my close handsome but complete nitwit friend Lohit. OK cheating would be too harsh a word in my circumstances i would prefer to call it a technical collabaration...ok ok shamelessly cheating from him . And putting on my The-answer-is-so-close-to-my-tongue-but-i-cant-get-it look ( the teacher was fooled by my innocent face ) ,I managed to survive the class.

Todays class was a perfect recepie for a heart attack.Sweat pouring down my brow, I scooted from the class as soon as i heard the bell.
They say that fear us the perfect adrenaline rush for thrill seekers ...but i had my thrill for one class and never in the coming classes would i venture out from the safety of the back benches from my own class.

CLASSROOM CAPERS part 1

Ok friends time to amuse you some more with some more classroom tales from the chronic back bencher ,the storyteller par - excellence , the narcissistic yours truly. Well its true that the guys from Manufacturing had started the first official BBC , but i was the one to brand market it , so shove it guys its my story.

Life from the back benches is always a one of perspective introspection ... you can choose to either immerse yourself in quiet reading or you can choose to be the part of the team that is always involved in contributing to the ruckus in the class.
9 :15 and the AEC class commences ....you would think that the people watching a football match would be more disciplined than the BBCians gracing the classrooms. The Analog Electronic Circuits madam was never on time ...(And we always cursed the damn Railway system). 15 minutes late she was and that suited us just fine.Time to catch up on all the latest gossip from the hostels and enough time to ogle at the girls gracing the front benches .

Ma'am would finally walk into the class and the rukus would just go up a notch further. I have one of those irritating gunfiring sounds (from the game Counter Strike)in my cell and once the din died down a bit ,few of us hooligans would play the soundtrack from under the benches . Salvo after salvo of bullets pierced the quiet classroom air and the sounds of spent casings would follow. And funnily she would pretend not to notice.
But we were not to be fazed .....i have one of those cartoon ....POOING.... sounds in my cell( the sound you would often hear when the eyes of a cartoon character popped out balanced on spring ends) The most hilarious part of that sound was that it was played at the perfect timing. Whenever she would be solving something on the board ( which she rarely did) and if she would get stuck on some technicality ( which she always was) POOING the noise would ring out loud and clear eliciting a an uproar from the back benches and even a snigger or two from the girls at the front.

Well girls you have to admit that without the ocassional fun ....(well occasional was an understatement it was perpetual ) i am sure none of you would have even survived the dead boring class. The noises were just the appetizers , the main course was the witty one liners from the back ...be it to a girl at the front or to one of those snotty first line guys or to the teacher , that really made our day.

An example - Whenever we would be asked a question , whether we knew the answer or not ...NO IDEA was the perfect alibi. Once she asked all the people in the back for the answer and she got an unanimous response. Even that rascal Sanjay Das was browbeaten into submission to reiterate that punchline ......it is the perfect foolproof answer for any class regardless of the reputation of the taecher.

Once even i had the impunity of asking the teacher what the hell was the question was when i was asked something and she realised the ultimate truth that the Back benchers were incorrigable.

At the end of the day every teacher does realise that the BBC is an organised racket at the back whose existance is a separate entity in the classroom . It s firmly entrenched in the classrooms and no amount of coercion would ever break our camarederie. The copy in our hands were just a formality, Lab notes and novels would be lapped up in the class time. It is amusing that how much the human brain can shut out outside disturbances while pursuing a thing of interest.
You thought that people like me whiled away their time in the classroom at the back, but let me remind you that the most worthwhile reading time i get is at the back.It is a place where people get to pursue their individual talents rather than be a part of the herd.

Time to go folks .... i have a class now and if i dont hurry i wont be able to get balcony seats for the show.

CLASSROOM CAPERS

This blog is a tribute , or rather i should say a fond remeberance to all those who died waiting for the boring classes in UCE to end. Now this is isnt a figment of my imagination , it is etched on the back benches of our classrooms. The sense of ennui was so great that it brought out the artist in them.

Doodles of all kinds graced the benches,reminiscent of cavemen paintings of the monolithic era. Lovers evoked their feelings with blood (rolling your eyes ...well it was the cheap ink of red ball pens).But the best part was the expletives that were used for the teachers......abuses so creative that it would be a paen to Edward De Bono (and his creative out of the box thinking skills lectures).You would think that the very teacher had made him eat snails for lunch, after reading the amount of words and the ferocity of language used. Abuses so creative , it would either make you roll in laughter or make you keel over and die thinking that future engineers of the country are prone to such gross mindset.

And thus as a retaliation against all the humiliation , the long supressed soul of the back benchers found utterance ,( as the first benchers drawled on and on , pens scrawling mindlessly using up all the precious paper). A tryst with destiny was created .....The BBC was born (The Back Benchers Community ). Generations of students have owed their alleigance to the community and anyone and everyone can join.

But there are some ground rules .
Rule no. 1 - Never even bother to listen to what the teacher is saying ( even though he is yelling that the building is on fire ). DONT EVEN TAKE THE PAIN OF STRAINING YOUR CRANIAL MUSCLES TO LOOK UP.

Rule no. 2 - Well this rule is strictly for UCE students .... No girls allowed in the BBC. And moreover never especially in the electrical branch.

Rule no. 3 - Never take more than one copy. It is in compliance with the rules of Greenpeace. Imagine the number of trees felled in the Amazon just to make one copy.We as responsible members of the planet do not want to endanger the lives of the various species of our home.
And the single copy also doubles up as a cartoon copy(This is in case of an emergency ,when the teacher is hell bent on boring you to coma)

Rule no. 4 - PROCRASTINATION IS OUR MOTTO.Never submit assignments on time delay till the last minute and then work on the assignment like your ass is on fire ....This is loads of fun guys.. you really feel like a true corporate honcho when you finish your assignments in the wee hours of the morning , just before class.and then catch on your beauty sleep in the back benches. (The Network theory bbok makes a great pillow once you put your kerchief on it.)

Rule no. 5 - Always have a repertoire of one liners ready, so that whenever one of those idiotic front benchers stand up and answer throw one at them and then snigger . This really works,its enough to fluster the person answering.

Rule no. 6 - Never show up in class on time .Always reach 15 minutes late and then keep a good excuse handy.

Rule no. 7- Once you are in BBC you are hereby forbidden to ever grace the first bench.

Rule no. 8- Bunking classes but getting marked present , is the holy grail of the BBC ...Now i am not going to tell you the secret of that ...you will have to use your own grey matter to figure how to achieve this feat.

Rule no. 9- Follow all the above mentioned rules and stick to them . Swear by them and do not ever try to forsake your fellow BBCians .

And after your death .... a headstone shall be installed in class

Here was a noble soul who died for the cause of BBC
Blest be the one who spares these stones
Curst be the one who moves his bones.

Well classroom capers continue ...if i could write everything it would be a hardbound volume , thick enough for fellow BBCians to sleep on.For more action in the class ...log on to my blogsite ...same place ...same time.

CHASING THE MONSOON

Damn *%$#@#** i curse (sorry friends cant articulate these colourful expletives as i have a respectable fan following) as the lights go out yet again. Damn the rain. OK now that might sound contradictory a few days before as i was cursing the damn heat and the humidity,buts lets face it grumbling about the inconvenienvces in life is my second nature.



Finally , my sun scorched friends !!!! the monsoon has arrived in a spectacular deluge , a splendid acoustic and visual display of dancing water and punctuated by the terrifying sounds of thunder.The frogs all over have broken out into a rendition of their amphibian sonata's in their irritating baritones, and the lights flicker intermittently as i write my blog.The air is as sticky as the stale chewing gum under the chair and the air is so laden with humidity that you can almost wash your face in it.Yep folks the monsoon has finally arrived in orissa ,after eluding the eyes in the sky(read stupid indian met satellites) and all the prescient statements of the Met office.
What makes the whole situation amusing is that the monsoon always plays truant with the Met officials and they always end up with egg on their faces.

Better luck next time guys .....
I look outside and it fills my heart with eternal joy ....OK now thats too corny , all i see is winged ants overunning plants that look like the living daylights have been blown out of them after a heavy downpour.
But since i dont want to infuriate the rain gods ...let me weave a tapestry of colours as seen from the 5ft. by 5ft. window of my bedroom.
The sun scorched plants seem to have got a new lease of life as the nascent stems and leaves all reach out to savour the cold pristine water from the heavens. After a heavy downpour , the leaves are adorned with small winking diamonds perched precariously on their edges, a sight that would have made Vincent Van Gogh dance with joy.And the air is filled with the smell of damp earth that would be a delight to the olfactory senses of any monsoon lover.God himself takes up the easel to paint the dull drab brown earth with the rich hues of green(Take that Mr. Einstein ,didnt you once comment that "God doesnt play dice with the universe".Well seems like he has taken up a new hobby of painting).

OK enough of this poetic crap ...monsoon is my favorite season as it is a season of spicy ,steaming cullinary delights. Be it the oil drenched pakoras , the hot frothing coffee, the tongue burning mixtures or the warm salted cashew nuts , it is a reprieve to the hungry stomach after the hot summer (it was purely a liquid idet in the summer ).Not to forget the power cuts .....when you get to do nothing but simply laze around , deatch yourself from the monotony of books and watch in wonder the bugs throwing themselves into the candle flame.

I know that you would be thinking that food would be the sole criteria for picking monsoon as my favorite season , but i do love the season for its midas touch of life ....
So how was the blog guys ...was it enough to give keats a run for his money ....?

CELLINGITIS

Fast forward 10 years and suddenly all the doctors hav one more disease to handle (already overburdened from the global outbreaks of SARS, H1N1,Bird flu) and the cause of this painstaking syndrome would be none other but your innocuous looking hand held cell phone.
A visual survey of any hostel would tend to corroborate my statements. Yes look around in any of the hostels and you would find people chatting away ...left,right and centre. Head tilted , shoulders bent and stooped in various uncomfortable positions that would have ancient yoga gurus turning in their graves.And judging by their facial expressions you can always guess whether the call is from the opposite sex.
Yep when its a girl , i've noticed people shy away from the crowd(often in secluded areas),there is a perpetual half cheeky grin throughout the duration of the call and there is absolutely zero flow of some colourful expletives that you would often hear in a hostel.

Okay friends ...i know you will be after my blood when you read your names in the blog ....but i dont give a damn. There's one guy called Satya from the Elec. Telecomm. deptt. who is a beacon of inspiration to all the cellingitis patients out there. How the hell can a person remain stuck on the phone for 6 long hours straight is a mystery that cell phone network companies gleefully would like to know,, and then come out with new schemes to increase talk times. In his room , on the bed, in the mess, on the roof...and god knows where ,people like satya are sharing sweet nothings with their lovers.

And thanks to my keen powers of observation(OK , that was an exaggeration I am blind without my specs and in the night i cant see far away), I have noticed that his head often lolls to one side even when he is not on the phone ,and his voice takes on a slick ,sweet, low almost musical tone(a consequence of talking too much with a girl).
Mark my words in the next few years medical R&D companies would be coming out with medecines , journals , even mobile stands that can fit on your head while talking on the phone and various other paraphernelia related to cellingitis. doctors around the world would be conveying their thanks to me for opening a new path for research for them.

And some of these people dont tell me i didn't warn you ... Satya,Pritam Das, Sheikh,Chandan and Satyajeet.
So as concerned citizens please warn your fellow friends who are in the throes of this malady to read my blog ....otherwise they can choose to look like those deformed zombies( in cheap hollywood flicks) after 10 years.And moreover being an electrical engg. student myself , i cannot bear to know that mobile towers malfunctioning ,due to constant exposure to the mindless yakking of these idiots.

I can hear the applause from you .Yep you must be thinking how benevolent is this chap to discuss this pressing matter, to remind us that we are an example to our future generations , live testimony to the fact that we are no slaves of technology.....
Adios folks and next time you make a call spare a thought about me and my advice....well gotta go , i can hear my phone ringing....... :)

CONFESSIONS OF A FOODIE

Yep, one of my favorite subjects to talk about. Anything related to food ….you name it and I love it. I was enjoying it when I was at home .But life does change when you are in the hostel. Imagine the worst form of torture, almost akin to the ruthless torture by the Nazis. Still don’t know what I’m talking about, well it was the food in the mess. No, don’t misunderstand me, the quality of food was OK( thousands of flies couldn’t be wrong) and moreover we had non-veg for five days a week. But you could only get three pieces of it whether it be chicken or mutton. Now that was too bitter a pill to swallow. For a person like me who loves to gorge on non-veg cuisine it was an outright violation, a transgression of human rights. And the most appalling fact was that everybody had reconciled meekly to the rule.

It was left to the hands of the last dying breed of connoisseurs to argue with the thick skinned mess workers just for one extra piece …….well piece would be an overstatement . After about 5 minutes of persistent haggling you would consider yourself lucky if you could get a few scraps of meat. But on the upside you could get as much gravy as you asked for. For the carnivores like me , atleast it was bearable but for the pious Veggies , Paneer was their sole luxury. Right from mashing it down to minuscule pieces to ones as large as the iceberg that sunk the Titanic, it was a high protein diet everyday. That did cause some complaints , but when the mess workers dished out alternatives like sizzled veggies( sizzled it till it was fit for Coal India Limited.) and veg Mumtaz (the dish was as good as its name …. It was fit for the dead) nobody dared to complain again. And then there was the Monday night dinner. They don’t call it the Monday blues for nothing. It was a dinner fit for the horses. Oats and Kheer was the menu. And yes you got a sweetmeat free. I took my plate just for that sweet and left the plate on the table.

The sweets were a different story altogether . They disappeared from the plates faster than Harry Houdini. It was a jungle out there during dinner time and unless one would guard it with Z type security it would be appeasing someone’s sweet tooth.Enough of the food in the mess. I would be giving too much credit to it if I devoted more space to it. But thankfully I am alive to tell my tale for the first year. And I am told that the food in senior hostels is still worse. Well who cares about mess food when you have a plethora of goodies to eat in the Hostel Canteen.

The Hostel Canteen was the best place to spend your cash. It was the lifeline for all the South Hostellites , well stocked with all sorts of snacks , drinks and the most important of all ( the must have for all UCE seniors) Cigarettes. There was always a crowd near the snacks table and if “Mausa”(Uncle as we lovingly called him) did not keep a wary eye on all those sneaking hands , I am sure he would have discovered serious anomalies in his accounts at the end of the day. When we first entered South Hostel people were paying him for everything they consumed . Cash was flowing left, right and centre but as days passed by the cash flow dwindled and the dog eared credit book earned a place on the cash desk. Furrows started lining Mausa’s brow as his debts runned into thousands of rupees. He was doing brisk business alright , but nobody paid him cash. It really hurts when you have don’t have liquidity of your assets and moreover he had to keep the demand-supply chain intact , otherwise that would mean a loss in his business. It was a lose-lose situation for him as the days went by. But a hardcore businessman that he was , he never let his angst show and he always treated everyone with deference and friendly cheer. Only when nobody would be around would he sometimes open up about his cash strapped existence. Enough of this ramblings about the state of affairs of the canteen , lets fast forward to summer……..which is another blog…….mates