Clark's First Law of Relativity
No matter how often you trade dinner or other invitations with in-laws, you will lose a small fortune in the exchange.
Corollary - Don't try it: you cannot drink enough of your in-laws' booze to get even before your liver fails.


The following few posts are memories of my college-years, which just got terminated recently. Memories, triggered by the Invitation to my Convocation, signifying the end of all ties with my college, and the recent counselling sessions, the beginnning of any student's entry into IIT.
Besides, these are memories that should be closely treasured by, before they all
just...
wither...
away...
So incoming, a collexion of the recollexion of memories, anecdotes, interesting bits and memorabilia, that just go to make up my college life.


Down the Memory Lane, Part I


I still remember the very first trip I had made into IIT, just to see the rank I had got. Even though it was posted at the entrance, and even though I did not go more than 10 meters into the campus, it just got me a whole lot closer to the dream I had had since my 10th.


I still remember the counselling sessions (mine was on the first day itself) , where we had to choose the branch and the IIT where we had to go. The last minute decision (it was, infact, exactly the last minute) to bump up Mechanical @ IIT Madras over Electrical @ IIT Kharagpur made me what I am today. The thought that this blog mite not even have existed does put a bit of fear. I am happy now that things have headed in a good direction.


I still remember the orientation function afterwards. In my mind, as in everybody else's, it was as dis-orienting as possible. The seniors (including girls, or non-males, as everybody refers to) giggling from the floors above, sneering at the next victims that they could pounce upon as soon as we entered the hostels did not present a pleasant site.


I still remember the day I moved into the hostel - Mandakini, to be exact, on the eve of the day before the classes started. We were bunched up, three in a room (designed for two). It was often said by returning alumni, that the one thing they would remember after leaving IIT, is their hostel room numbers, which almost becomes engraved in one's mind. I cannot just put it in any other better way. Mine was 368 A, the 'A' signifying that I was the first in that room; the other two being a Northie guy in Electrical, and then luckily, a Tam guy in Metallurgical, who had come to the same JEE coaching classes with me. Consolation for me. Sudhon was in the same hostel, 4 rooms from mine.


I still remember the first time I got ragged. A group of quite note-worthy seniors caught me just as my parents left me and then asked me to do some quite wierd stuff. I got through, and IT was quite a mental hell for me. Then on, the decision never to rag others stuck to my mind.


I still remember the first food that I had had at the mess. While, to some, it did cause allergic reactions, constipations, and some vomitting even, I could just manage it. Physically, I could not find anything wrong with it. Apart from the insects, beetles and spiders which occasionally find its way into the huge buckets of sambar, rasam, equally huge vessels competing for size for rice and curry and the dinner plates, or the water that would have made sea water taste like mineral water, there was nothing wrong with it. It was just plain boring, and not tasty either. But, it was just food. And a man needs to eat. I soon ended up competing for the lowest mess bill that month, by not eating any of the extra stuff provided with the basic food (like cool drinks for a hot afternoon, vegetable kurmas, egg curry, puffs and samosas to accompany tea, ice-creams during dinner...). One thing I am glad about is the fact that eating in the mess, immunises anyone against any food and water borne diseases in the future - that ocould come in quite handy.


To be continued...
Next Post: College academics.