The Caricature Project #1

I will eventually blog about the why. For now, it would be sufficient to say that I have always been fascinated by faces and the people behind those faces. So I thought I would paint potraits with words.

He looked as old as the Aravallis. Perhaps, his crisp brown suit was intended to counter that air of weariness. And all it did was highlight rather than hide. He had somehow clambered onto the podium of the air conditioned class at the Civil Service Training Academy and was addressing a batch of around two hundred students. They were curious. Until now, most of the tutors they had seen were a comparatively younger lot and if not for anything, faster and having more fluid locomotive skills. The new tutor was a bit too rickety.

One little fly perched on a nearby window inside the room. Flies prefer the warmth and this little one was no different. It looked out of place in an air conditioned hall and was perhaps trying to figure out what was happening to it. Its bulging eyes kept darting, looking for an escape route. Meanwhile, its movements were visibly slowing.

The crumbled mouth finally broke into a long drawl. "Histttory.." He paused for a moment as if recollecting something. The class waited expectantly. He looked at the map of India near the blackboard and moved towards it. With a wave of his hand over the map, he uttered again "Histtory..is divided into.." Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a couple of students moving out of the class. That used to always happen. He would not call them back, of course. He had always let his teaching do the talking for him. He would make his students relive history. He would give them a bird's eye view of the three battles of Panipat, give them a taste of the English treachery, make them swell with pride about the exploits of the mighty Marathas and enrage them with a vivid account of the rape and pillage of Delhi under Nadir Shah.

"And Aaftter Humayun, came Jahangir." He paused. That did not sound right. But, he had already talked about the mighty Akbar and his Din-i-ilahi. His students were glancing at each other rather than at him. He could see more vacant seats. He was perplexed. "So Aurangaazzeb was a puritan. He did not drink." That was important. History was not a series of facts. In fact, history was more about people. People and what they were resulted into history;it shaped and moulded the past. And that was how it should be studied, by studying people. He could hear more laughter from the background. He tried to recollect his last sentence. He began."So Aurangaazzeb was a puritan. He did not drink."

 The little fly was still in the process of hatching a plan. Nearly three-fourth of the class was vacant. The rest of them were indulging in a variety of activities like reading newspapers(preparing for civil service meant that you could ill afford to waste time), playing android games(Or maybe not), sleeping and catching up on the latest UPSC rumours. "Studentss, now write down, what I say. Important." They saw him open his file.

His trusted file. He had already written down the summary of all the classes he would be taking in separate A4's and stored it in that file. At the end of each of his class, he would make his students jot down the summary of the corresponding class. It helped them in the process of retaining it in their memory. This had been how he had done it for around twenty years. He loved the ancient A4's. Of course, minor alterations had to be made now and then to make it correspond to the syllabus. But, history mostly remained the same. He smiled and then frowned. He couldn't seem to find the right A4, the one that had the summary of today's class. He was sure that he had arranged them in order.

It was 1:30 pm and the corridor nearby the entrance of the academy was suddenly filled with students. The morning classes had ended. The conversations of the students wafted through the cold November air.

"Man, total waste of time today." 

"Oh yeah. Then, why did you stay till the end?"
"I thought he would atleast dictate the notes properly. He managed to make a mess out of even that."
"Give him some slack. He's old."
" I am not blaming him. But, what's the director's excuse? We are paying a tremendous amount of fee to this academy."
"Somebody told me that this guy was a renowned professor back in the 90's. Everyone studying history as an optional used to come to him. He had then suffered a heart attack and had stopped teaching. The director basically cajoled him to come back and teach again."

The staff hadn't switched off the AC and it was still chilly inside the hall. The little fly was the sole occupant of the hall now. It's movements were getting slower and that magnificient escape plan was floating further away from it.

The Jack-Fruit Tree

I promised myself that I would neither do one of those sentimental reveries (and make people go "Not again, dude!) nor come back to this blog. Roughly three months passed by and here I am succumbing to the temptation on realising through those random facebook status updates, that my alma mater is reopening for yet another year. Yet another lot of freshers coming in wide eyed. Yet another set of fourth years ready to do the delicate balance between running around to obtain a decent placement and stamping their insignia before they leave.

Right outside my house, there's a jack-fruit. It was there when I moved into my house back in the 90's as a toddler and it was still there when I bid adieu to Kerala for an year or so. When my family constructed our house, there were not many houses in my neighbourhood and Trivandrum had not been not very much exposed to the sudden burst of new age liberalisation and globalisation. And then time zoomed which kind of looked like one of those jazzy photographs taken by the ever increasing hordes of amateur photographers using long shutter exposure(I hope I am right technically.)

And only the tree remained a constant in the equation. So why am I yapping about a jack-fruit instead of getting high and eating some 'chakka chola' for a combo? It's just that I have always loved the things which stayed permanent. You did find people growing along with such things in a hurry to get somewhere and it staying constant, changing little and watching over faithfully as people just zap by it. Quite like the tree, offering plentiful shade and delicious fruits to succeeding generations. Changing little, staying sturdy and strong. Like our alma mater.

It's been only around three months but time seemed to have passed like that picture. Every one of those odd B09- people have been catapulted into maturity(which basically means you are either getting a fat wad of money or you are trying to somehow do another two years of desperate studying-something-somewhere to get into some place). You do have those odd pockets of high density areas or companies where people start wondering whether there is anybody else in the world besides an NIT-Cian. But, mostly it's a bunch of 'once-homies' now having to deal with their own separate life in a gradual phased manner.

And in these frenetic times, I cannot help but remember my jack-fruit of an institution called Yennaite and popularly called  ARe-Yee-Cee and even more popularly known beyond kattangal as "**********  *********". I wish for my batch that there exists things inside that college and storied carved onto that institution that would make people remember us once in a while(i.e things other than dues related to Ragam). Of course, yennaite-ens being yennaite-ens,  I am fairly certain that everything we did would have been dissected.  And the criticisms would probably range from "They burned it. Fuck them. They burned it." to "useless SAC, they were. We'll do it better." to " This guy was okay. That girl was great. But, that one no? Dumb. Dumb. Dumb." But then, I still hope even as generations pass out of that institute and the jackfruit grows older, it would still carry a lingering scent of our years there. The fun we had. The memories we made. And the shit we did. And all those bonds with the juniors. And the good stuff we did for that college.

And, in turn I hope the jackfruit stays tall for years to come. Because the thing that is fairly certain is that people will return to it. For a bit of its shade, when life becomes too annoying.

"Yes, this is a noon for wild men, wild thoughts, wild love.To be here, far away, is torture. Wild feet stirring up the dust, this hot noon, at my home in Malabar, and I so far away. " 

- A Hot noon in Malabar, Kamala Das

PS : Don't judge the mushiness. I reckon I just miss that particular way of life.

What we leave behind - Of closure.

It's pretty hard penning a farewell blog post. 

Why?

Because if somebody matters to you, you would find an umpteen number of ways to keep in touch. And, if it doesn't happen, it wasn't really much of a big deal.  If you loved the place, you would keep revisiting it once in a while. And again, if you did really love this place, you would be taking a part of it with you. Now, if you are taking a part of this place with you, you would keep doing something mad with your life every now and then which would in turn automatically ensure that you stay true to that tag- Yennaite.

So, it's hard penning a farewell because in reality, there isn't one. The tag stays. At the least for people whom it mattered. 

And for the rest of you.

Au revoir, buddy.

It's been fun.

What we leave behind - Of Transitions and Changes

"I wonder how many panels would sprout up for the elections in your final year. I am guessing 5-6 at the very least. It would be fun watching you people beat each other into pulp." somebody once told me. The B09- batch was among other things famous for its uneasy truce. Call it luck or laziness or the work of some animalistic spirit, the comment would never come true.

It would ironically take a year which never talked about unity to do all the things that would remain a dream to the previous batches. Camp Art, for instance, would never have revived and become a success if not for the initiative and enthusiasm of our batch. A Ragam with 1500 registrations, a successfully executed theme, wildly successful pronites, hauntingly beautiful lantern fest and events with new formats would set the standards for the future editions of the same. And, thus we would never conform to predictions made about us.

Provided you do not have the habit of messing up your ID card by tossing it into the washing machine along with your clothes, just take a look at it. It's funny to realise that four years ago we were very different from what we are now. We would never be able to imagine the things that would eventually happen to us four years ago. Relationships would make and break. Love and hate would dance quite a sexy salsa. We would never let go of our ego and pride. And most of us would change under the weight of some good and mostly terrible experiences.

And in about two months the B09- batch would mostly become display pictures on a social networking site to us and our juniors, whose equilibrium would be occasionally  disturbed by a random meet like that of a convocation or an alumni or one among close friends. Some would hardly care. Some would care a bit too much. Most of us would unfailingly stick to our prejudices, hatred and ego clashes. But, life would catch on equally with the entire lot of us.

I recently met a senior from the 2004 REC batch on train. That's the year when REC got converted into NIT-C. He initially started talking about how he was about to dump his unremarkable career of six and a half years at TCS for something more challenging and his eyes lit up when I asked him about college. He would go on and continue talking about clubs, elections, the annual sports meet, badminton tournaments, Saarang, Ragam and much more. He would also talk of a one-placement policy that was not enforced by a department of placement and training but rather initiated by students themselves because they wanted to ensure placements for everybody. When I described to him the new buildings that had sprouted up, he would take the backside of his printed ticket and draw the layout of the old REC. And in his sparkling eyes, I would see the future of many of us.

What we leave behind - For the love of the game.

# He is wearing a crisp formal shirt coupled with well ironed pants. And his eyes are trained on his laptop. The AC has pretty much chilled him numb.A white ceiling and a small square cubicle surrounds him. And, there are an infinite such cubicles in that office. Unread files are piled up on his table. He glances at the clock impatiently. It's his payday.

# Auditions. Practising for intra as well as inter-college fests. Winning. Power naps on benches. Poker at nights. Britannia biscuits and water melons(big ones and the ones in the paper cup). A hundred hands scooping porottas. Getting messed up and dirty after cleaning different places inside college. Hands dipped in paint. Fevicol on your cheeks. Hands scarred from lifting benches.  Water fights. Theypu and Chalis. Half sleepy, slightly drunk and fully insane. Proudly flashing badges.(Neatly printed as well as handmade). Running around. Dancing at night. Making new words.(Mandip. Mandip. Mandip.). Night outs. And the early morning food from the hotels and the thattukadas at Kattangal, Mukkom and Kunnamangalam. Planning and preparing. The "Feel". Treats afterwards. And the bonds. And the pride. And posing together for photographs in weird and wacky ways.
    

What we leave behind - The invisible hands.

 I am a writer or at the very least, I would like to think of myself as one. And perhaps, the best gift I can give back to my college as I graduate along with my batch would simply be my thoughts. So, here starts a series.

# A swarming horde of NITC-ians surround the Baby Memorial Hospital. A small accident with a student here involved. His really close friends are helping out. While most of the others stand by, to give assistance, if  needed. Not many who have come may know the person well enough but they still do come. Even if it's of no use. Even if it's a mere formality. An impulse of humanity? Showing off? No one's sure.

# Between the main canteen and the administrative building, lies a forgotten piece of land. And it's not just the rusty piece of REC board that has been recently taken off. "In memory of" states the enclosures surrounding a host of dried up plants so far apart from our daily hectic lives.

# I recently had an argument with my friend, who criticised my college by saying that SnehaRagam is conducted for publicity(as are all social initiatives of other cultural fests). I just reflected her statements onto the happiness I saw on those kids' faces on being to able perform, get trophies and have fun. Does motives really matter when what it results in is that kind of happiness?

#Shekharettan, the acting steward of F-Hostel is known for boring the inmates with his long talks. One day, I got caught up in a conversation with him, where he talked about students of the older generation. He talked about how they used to chitchat with him over a cup of tea nearly every day. Vijayettan of MC had said something similar a few weeks back. Shekarettan also described in length to me about the hardships he has to face, his low wages, his court cases and his son. It's obvious that these days, he doesn't have many people to talk to.

And, we would graduate in 46 days, as human beings. Engineers, yes. But, much more as human beings.

Ragam: Frequently Asked Questions.

Q: Except for Choreonite and FS, Ragam allows home participation. Why?

Valid question. Firstly, let me clarify that even though we do participate in events like Streetplay, Mime etc, we have taken great pains to ensure that a neutral jury is appointed to judge the different events. Of course, there has been one or two rare occurrences of that having faltered in the previous past but they are indeed very rare deviations than the norm. Of course, I haven't still answered the question. Why? And, to answer that, I would have to describe to you NIT-C's traditions. At the beginning of every year in January, we conduct an intra-college Ragam audition. The best out of all the first years are selected into the various teams after which, for three successive months, they undergo training and practice from 8 pm to 2 am at night, which as March approaches would extend into 4 am in the morning with an ultimate goal of bagging a pole position for their respective events at Ragam. This would be in addition to the regular classes, they have to attend. This tradition molded itself into shape, in part due to a really hectic schedule, which prevented us from attending other fests en masse. Times have changed but this tradition endures. I believe that my college has one of the best cultural teams in Kerala among engineering colleges and this is a direct resultant of the above mentioned tradition. NIT-C has started participating in other fests in Kerala. But, we still continue to participate at Ragam, especially in team events like the ones already mentioned simply because whereas the rest of the fests are variables, Ragam is a constant and would always happen on March of every year. Hence, the auditions would also be a constant.

Q: Why are there no group registrations for team events?

That is because the total registration fee including event registration and accommodation for three days is what many colleges would charge for accommodation alone. Besides that, we have a really large set of events(around 50). So, there are technical difficulties as well in going for group registration. And, we believe that this time around, we are offering the highest cash prize for a cultural fest in the state of Kerala. These three factors have led us to chuck group registrations.

Q: So, what's so special about Ragam?


Having answered all the above, I will tell you why Ragam is unlike so many other festivals in Kerala. Ragam has been conducted without fail on March of every year since 1987. We have a rich history and tradition behind Ragam, which was started as a singing competition in the memory of Rajan(A name that perhaps every Malayali should be familiar with). Each and every student of NIT-Calicut would have callused his hands doing infrastructure work for Ragam which involves among other things lifting and carrying heavy items to the different venues, cleaning and doing manual labour etc. We were never forced into doing it. We did it on our own. We would eventually progress to become Junior and Senior executives to Managers and Core Committee members. In sum totality, it's a well-oiled machine, you see. And, the things we do and say in the name of Ragam, we do it with a lot of pride.

Our feelings and hardwork aside. 

- We were the first to bring in the big names of the bollywood music industry to Kerala.

- We were among the first to conduct social initiatives as a part of our cultural fest in Kerala.

- We are pretty much still the only ones to conduct such a wide variety of workshops including dance   workshops(Salsa, Bachata, Jive, Tango), mocktail mixing workshops, archery, shooting, Nikon certified photography workshops and many more.

- We were among the first to introduce adventure sports like soap football, kart racing etc.

- 360 Degrees has become a brand name and created quite a stir in the online photography circuits.

- Some of our event formats are widely accepted to be the best in Kerala and right now, we are offering the highest total cash prize for event winners of a cultural fest in Kerala. We also have a range of goodies from FastTrack and Reliance waiting for the event winners this year.


Q: Why do you guys get super annoyed when people criticise Ragam?


How would you feel when your college fest is criticised unfairly especially when you have poured your sweat and blood into it?We are not perfect. We do have miles to go before we achieve that milestone. Do understand that in the course of chasing dreams, we do end up making our share of errors. We sincerely apologise and hope that you would it take it in a light manner. Of course, constructive criticisms are always welcome. ;)