‘You will anyway be married in the next year or two,’ my mom said.
It all started way back, I guess. Maybe, it just comes with being the older son in a Tamil Iyer family. My mom’s initial fears included my turning out to be a bad student, hence with no job, hence with little or no future, and hence dependent on her all my life. As I aspired and changed fields from Medicine to Biotechnology to Communication to (now) Marketing, my mom’s thoughts on the same fluctuated like a pendulum on cocaine.
Apart from a ruined career, she had several other fears. They ranged from my temper and lavish spending tendencies to the worst fear of every Iyer mom- my getting a Muslim girl home and demanding a wedding. Not that there is anything wrong with women following Islam, but Iyer parents just can’t take it. Nah. Never! I guess they just don’t want the gene pool to have better looks or physical strength. Or lose the IQ that makes Iyers proud. Or worse, (GOD!) have meat eaters at home!
At Diwali, I was asked to suggest matches for my cousin from amongst my Iyer friends. I laughed my arse off! I am NOT aiding an arranged marriage! No way in hell! But those of you ‘eligible’ Iyer guys out there who suddenly sat up, she has never lived in South India, and can talk as much Tamil as a (Seth-u) Marwadi in Sowkarpet can. Okay, not even that much. 😛
My mom and grandmom were upset. Their immediate fear- ‘are you going to go in for a love-u marriage?!’
Me: Of course!
Grandmom: So you have a girl friend now?!
Me: I wish.
Grandmom: Don’t lie!
Me: I wish I were lying. I don’t have one now. But don’t you worry, I will sometime soon. I will let you know before I get married. So how long do I have again?
So now coming back to the line I started this post with. I was on the phone with my mom when she randomly tells me that I should be married in the next couple of years. I laughed my arse off. Told her that that was insane, and that it would never happen. So how do I get her to regret having the very thought?
‘So you want me to find myself a girl within a year and marry her soon after? Sure!’
The silence after that was a given. Followed by a change of topic. I vividly return patting my back and grinning ear-to-ear while continuing to drive down the highway back to Bangalore.
But for those of you women out there interested in making my mom’s dreams come true, you can send me your applications expressing your interest. I would have listed out my criteria and conditions, but then that will need a good half a dozen blog posts worth of lists. Feel to include as many pictures as you can, in as little clothing as you please. Might just improve your chances. Though I don’t guarantee ‘a hand’ in marriage… okay… let us not get that far.
You could use the comments section to express interest or abuse as well. 😛
In the Audio-Visual Media class, we were given a weekly assignment of coming up with a “visual diary.” A visual diary has short scripts of sorts, which are short stories of sorts, but pretty descriptive in the visual aspect. The idea is to be able to write stories which can be shot into films directly. Rather, the reader/listener should be able to visualize the story as he/she is reading/listening. We were asked to observe a scene or a location for a few hours and write about it. This is a small part of all that happened last Saturday when I was with my friends. Also, this is the first such assignment that I submitted yesterday. The I size is almost twice as much as the limit that was given, but here is the story nevertheless. I will try and upload my future attempts/submissions as well. Your comments and suggestions are most welcome.
So here goes…
“Let us watch some funny stuff instead, guys!” he insisted to his four friends seated around the room. He wore a blue t-shirt with the words “Play Healthy” written in big white letters across the back, and a pair of khakhi shorts. His hair was curly and bushy. His eyes were fixated on the same thing that the other four were looking at. Pictures of brutal murders and post mortem studies kept flashing across the screen. Three guys and two girls were seated around the laptop, in a small room. All of them seem to be of the same age group (early twenties) possibly friends from college. Beyond the laptop screen and footwear scattered across the floor, a door lay partially open. It was dark but clear night outside. Sounds of vehicles speeding down the street could be heard through the door and white-curtained window to its right.
“You should check some of the other stuff out. This rotten.com has some crazy shit in it. Wonder what on earth makes people turn into such animals. It does not affect me at all, but. Choor also I don’t feel bad.” said the girl who was handling the laptop. Her hair tied at the back of her head, but a few strands still falling on her face, hiding her eyes partly- her purple sleeveless t-shirt and a pair of blue faded jeans covering her slender body. She brushed her hair aside with her left hand and lied down on her stomach for a better view of the screen.
Behind her, a guy in a green t-shirt and a short pair of checked shorts covering his vast expanse, and a shaggy beard covering his face turned around to sit with another smaller laptop. The tubelight on the wall opposite him lit up his face as he bent down in concentration to press the “resume” button of the game he was playing. “Let us play Counter Strike, man. Come fast. Join CT. I am terrorist. Join my server. I have to do CRM assignment after that.” Sounds of gunshots and bombs start coming from the laptop as the guy in green starts playing the game with full concentration. A bed lies ahead of him, against the wall, with several wires running near his legs and under the bed in serpentine fashion. An ash tray, a box of Marlboro Lights and a box of Gold Flake lie scattered on the floor.
A table lies to the left of the bed, against the wall. Several things lie scattered on it, including a long mirror against the wall, several keys, medicines, a few empty packets of cigarettes, a big matchbox a bag, women’s accessories, etc.. The girl in purple lights up another cigarette and takes a few puffs, her eyes still fixed on the screen, as another (bespectacled) dark guy in a black t-shirt starts meddling with the laptop, switching between windows. Sounds of “not this one, dude, I have already seen it” and “can we watch some funny shit instead?” are heard in random.
Another rather plump fair girl in a pair of pink pyjamas with floral patterns and a plain, black t-shirt gets up and walks up to the door at the other end of the room, climbing two small stairs to reach the door. “I will be back in a minute, guys,” she says as she reaches the door. Inside are seen a wash basin and a shower, as the door closes behind her. She returns after a couple of minutes, as “Aicha” by Outlandish starts playing from one of the laptops. “Play my favourite song, Sam!” she pleads.
As the song stops and another one starts, the rather oversized guy in the green t-shirt closes his laptop shut, keeps it on the bed next to a book titled “The journal of ADVERTISING,” and starts moving his body to the tune of the song with a wide grin across his face. The others turn to each other, laugh, and start humming the tune of the song as well, waiting for the lyrics to begin.
Suddenly, the door opens forcefully, and in enters another guy in a green, white and blue striped t-shirt and a pair of blue denims. He is lanky, with short hair, a goatee and a sleepy look. The door slams the wall and comes back towards the frame, coming to a stop in a near-closed position. Without saying a word he heads straight to the bed and throws himself on the bed. “NOT ON MY LAPTOP, PABLO!” screams the guy in green. “Why can’t you move it aside? You can see it no? And the journal is not mine also. Library’s! See what you have done,” he says, as he fishes it out from under the new entrant, and displaying the badly folded pages of the book, and keeping his laptop under the bed to keep it safe. All eyes were on the guy on the bed.
“Stop telling me what to do. I am tired, okay? And sleepy. Don’t keep asking a million questions as soon as I come. What do you think?” retorts the guy on the bed, with his face hidden inside the pillow. “I am telling you nicely, right,” says the guy in green, “please take care of my laptop. Don’t jump on it like this. And where are those two people? How was Blues?” The girl in black quips in, “yeah, what the hell were you doing in Blues? I thought you didn’t have any money! And Sup, don’t yell at him. Poor Pablo is tired! Look at him, like a kid he is.” There is laughter and giggling.
“Paaapaa. How cute my Fai is. Don’t shout at him. Look at him. Sooo sweeeet,” says the girl in purple, turning towards the bed and sitting up with knees folded between her arms. “You sleep, Fai. My baby you are. Look at him no. Paaapaa. Hahaha!” She takes another puff and blows it out towards her left. “Stop acting gay! You are too gay da!” she exclaims as the curly-haired guy in the blue t-shirt covers his nose with the edge of his t-shirt to protect himself from the smoke. He shrugs his shoulders and says with his face still hidden behind the t-shirt, “so be it. I don’t want you to kill me. It is okay if you want to smoke. It is an effective way to lose weight… One lung at a time. Suit yourself.”
The attention of all but the guy in bed then turns to the laptop screen that was keeping them busy initially. They start seeing some more gory pictures of a different murder, with “shitttt” and “I can’t stand to see such things” in the chorus.
There is a gentle tap on the door. The door opens slowly. “Don’t freak out guys. Please please don’t freak out. We are both fine. We met with an accident, but we are both fine. Just don’t panic,” says a voice, as a face is slowly visible through the door. A tall and dusky girl is seen, with blood across her chin, lips and right cheek. She is clad in a green sleeveless top, torn in a few places, and a pair of jeans folded up to her knees. The blood on her face is mixed with sand and dust. As she steps in, it is obvious that she is covered in mud, and has injuries in several other parts of her body. Everyone in the room except for the guy lying down on the bed get up immediately to see what the matter was. Some are calm while others panic.
Another figure is visible behind her as the injured girl walks into the room and towards the door at the other end. A fair guy in his mid-twenties is seen. His white shirt with blue and red stripes, folded up just over his elbows and his faded denims are covered in mud as well. His right hand is held in his left hand. His right arm is bleeding profusely, and his clothes are torn near his right thigh, right knee, right shoulder and near his rib cage. He is smiling wide as his face is lit by the tubelight inside the room. “Hey guys,” he says as he notices everyone else looking at him.
The injured girl turns around suddenly just as she was going to enter the bathroom and exclaims, “Ohhh! I forgot! Guys, this is Ashwin. Sorry for introducing him in this state.”
If there is one thing that I will continue to crib about, here in Manipal, it will be the lack of proper internet access in my hostel. However, that is not going to get us anywhere. But it did get me to Deepu and Vineeth’s house, and here I am accessing the net from their place. So firstly, thanks for putting up with me, guys.
This post will talk about some, just SOME, of the crazy stuff that we guys are up to most of the time. Not a thing can be spoken about 208, Vaishnavi Bhavan without a mention of Mallu Waters. Now the obvious question is “What on earth is Mallu Waters?” Let me try and explain.
Mallu Waters, besides being the home to an eternally kurta-clad, thick-bearded communist and a football-crazy, loud-mouthed dipsomaniac, is the most happening place in Manipal; or so some of us choose to believe. It has a bar(the bedroom), a dance floor(the living room) and a smoking lounge(get the fuck out of the house if you want to smoke, you Bitch!). The core of the Mallu Waters consists of one Mallu guy(two, actually, but that will not go well with the next bit of the sentence), a Tamil Brahmin girl(who also claims to be in a relationship with the former, but the rest of the world finds it as a ridiculous and hilarious proposition) and a freak of nature who also happens to talk in Tamil. So yeah, the four of them(two Mallus, remember?) form the core of the Mallu Waters.
So what exactly happens there? I guess it will suffice to say that it gets a lot of the attention of old monks who come and go. Not that others don’t come and go, but Mallu Waters would not be Mallu Waters without the Old Monks. And the pickles too, but we will get to that a little later.
Moving on to lesser mortals, like us, now. There are some of us who frequent the place as well. There is this one techie who calls himself Neogenx21. He doesn’t talk much. But when he does, you can’t not appreciate his sarcasm. And in a place like Manipal where absolutely no one seems to get sarcasm, he is one of those few gusts of fresh air in a bloody arid desert. He is also Mallu, by the way. So I think I should say that he is like a single coconut tree standing on a single oasis on the vast Sahara Desert. Or rather, the one guy climbing up the tree to get you that one life saving coconut. And when you come to think of it, it is very much possible to find a Mallu in that very situation, right? So yeah, he is awesome. 😛
There is one other woman, a Mallu this time, who keeps frequenting the place. She is supposed to be the best friend of the guy going out with the “accused” Tamil Brahmin girl. In a way, you can call her the blonde Mallu. I am talking primarily about the IQ level. She is taken, by the way. So those of you still considering you will try your luck, forget it. Her guy is so awesome to her that he openly admits he will trade her for a football. But they are still going out. They will continue doing so. And they frequent Mallu Waters. So when you read about the legends a few years later, you know what made them what they are(will be, rather, but still).
And now we get to the invitees. There are a few people who always figure in the guest list. There is this guy who takes pride in calling himself “Smiley Sil.” Not sure if his being Oriya has anything to do with such a name, but let me not try analysing that a bit too much, and say a few nice things about him as well. He, I am sure, will help design amazing posters and flexes for the promotion of Mallu Waters, when the core decides to go big. For now, subtle publicity is the mantra. Just to test the waters(pun might be intended).
We then move on to a bevy of girls(NOT hot chicks) from “Smiley Sil’s” class. One is a kid(physically and mentally) who hates to be called so. Another is a “muscular” Bihari who loves South Indian sweets more than anything else. The third can be a brand ambassador for Gtalk and Skype, as she is on them ALL the time talking to a certain someone in Australia. The fourth, well, I really don’t know who she is, but was told that she comes as a part of the package. Doubt if they would be regular visitors, but they are invitees anyway.
We then come to a Mallu with an afro and another with a broken leg. They are both funny in several ways. One is a pain when drunk and another is going to be forced to get drunk very soon. Oops! Did I just give away some inside information? It is all cool, though. I doubt if he will be informed about it by Saturday. I won’t elaborate on them any further as we have a lot more aspects to deal with.
From the final year BAJC class, we have several legendary people. I will not get into the details here as that will need an entire post in itself. I think it will suffice to say that we have people who are capable of getting so high that they will lick the spilt booze off a floor which has not been swept or mopped for ages. It might not sound bad enough, but the video that we have will make anyone, yes, ANYONE, call such people insanely drunk.
Though there are several other aspects to be touched upon, I will now move to the “rules and regulations” right away. Mallu Waters charges a very nominal fee of Rs 10 for couple entry and Rs 15 for stag entry. However, entrance is free for those “chicks” deemed “hot” by the Mallu Waters core. And seeing that there are hardly any “hot chicks” around, it really should not affect the earnings of Mallu Waters.
Another rule, and the most important rule at that, is that everyone respects old monks. An Old Monk is a symbol of hope, of a better tomorrow. And when the Mallu Water-folk have pickle at the time of visits by old monks, they experience nothing short of bliss. However, one thing that will NOT be tolerated in Mallu Waters is random puke in all the wrong places. If anyone were to puke in an undesirable place/manner, he/she will be thrown out unceremoniously.
There are several other rules, a few more members and invitees. But all that will have to wait for another day. This blog post has been delayed for nearly a month now. So a Mallu Waters Part II will be up soon. Wait for it! It will surely not disappoint! 🙂
And some serious stuff now(yeah right!) LMFAO!
In the meanwhile, please do keep an eye on the Article-19 topic on Twitter. Also, Article-19 is now a member of Twitter too! For those of you who are not aware of it, Article-19 is the annual fest of Manipal Institute of Communication(MIC). To be more precise, it is India’s first ever core communication fest. It is the pride of MIC. 🙂
But most importantly, Mister Bijlee is once again the Mascot of Article-19. And Mister Bijlee is BACKKK!!! 😀 I mean, he is back to keep you all posted about his whereabouts. Mister Bijlee is waiting where he has always been. You should go pay him a visit. Like NOWWWW! :-p
I tried coming up with a photoblog last night. It took me ages to try and figure out ways in which I could upload the pictures. I was told to upload the pictures to photobucket first and then use the links for the blog. And what happened was not surprising at all. I was not able to upload even a single picture on photobucket either, leave alone Orkut or Facebook. So then I tried out something else. I tried giving the links of the pictures on my Orkut album, for the blog. And going by the looks of things, that doesn’t work either. So that is the story of the failed photoblog. My sincere apologies to everyone. I will make up for it soon and will also rectify the very same blog as soon as I can.
So what makes the internet connection here so bad? Here is a bit of background info on that.
I got here to Manipal to be informed by my brother and his friends that the block in which I stay has the fastest LAN in any educational institute in the whole of Asia. I was really pleased about it. The real time download speed was about 6 mbps, which is far more than what I have ever used in the past. But as things always work, there was a catch. Facebook, Orkut, YouTube, etc. were all blocked. As were Torrents, that is. The only way to get around the blocks was to use proxy servers.
I first tried out iphone.facebook.com to access Facebook. It sucked SO bad that I decided not to use Facebook at all till when I managed to get the real thing to work. Then, I tried getting a proxy called “Ultrasurf” which is supposed to work really well here. I was happy that it would finally let me access several sites that I were my lifelines. I was not even able to access gmail on my Mozilla Firefox! So I finally got Ultrasurf and decided to give it a try. After a few failed attempts, I was told that it does not work on certain computers with Windows Vista as the operating system. So I had two options. Either stop trying to access FB, Orkut, YouTube, etc. or get a new OS.
Before I could do either of them, there was talk of the LAN being disconnected for good. And it came true! The LAN was dropped and we were stuck with a lousy WiFi connection called ION. On the bright side, ION did not block anything apart from Torrents and porn. So Orkut, Facebook, YouTube, etc. were back again. But there was a downside. WiFi connections might usually not be so bad, but when you are in the second biggest hostel block in the whole of Asia, with just a couple of routers for the whole block, you sure are not going to be happy with the results. And that was just the case with me. The WiFi sucks big time, and I am having to put up with it.
It takes about 2-3 minutes just to sign into Facebook. I have not managed to sign into gtalk even once since the LAN got blocked. Accessing Orkut is a not as bad, but try uploading even a single picture and you will hate yourself for having tried. If Orkut and Facebook are so bad, do you think you can even manage to view a single video on YouTube? It took me over 10 minutes of waiting to be able to watch 10 seconds of a 30 second video on YouTube. After that, I gave up.
Owing to the fact that many of my friends kept asking me to upload pictures taken during my holiday to Rajasthan, and also the more recent pictures from Manipal, I thought I should not disappoint. So I tried uploading pictures on Facebook, only to be told that I did not have some Java plugin. I downloaded that(it took me well over an hour just to download the installation file) and installed the damned thing. Once I was done, I went back to Facebook to upload the pictures. Apparently, I still did not have the plugin, according to Facebook. I am guessing it was because the net sucked THAT bad. I tried uploading pictures on Orkut and the stupid thing would just not work! ION kept asking me for the password each time I tried to upload a picture, and the upload would just hang right there. So much for uploading pictures on social networking sites using ION!
That is when we come to my blog and photobucket. I manage to sign up on Photobucket, as per my friend’s recommendations, and then try uploading pictures. It is then the same old Orkut story all over again! The upload freezes as soon as it starts. ION promptly asks you for the password and jams everything! So that is when I tried experimenting a bit and gave the links to pictures from my Orkut album in my “photoblog.” And things went pretty much along expected lines. Nothing worked!
So what am I going to try now? I will try giving the links to my Facebook albums instead and hope for the best. If nothing else works, it is “goodbye ION” and “hello private connection!” I have had enough of this crap!
Here are some of the pictures I clicked over the past month. Less than that, actually. There are way too many pictures that I clicked during my trip to Rajasthan and so they will have to wait. Actually, there are way too many pictures even otherwise. Here is a small list of pictures I clicked during the first week of my getting my Nikon D80.
Seeing that I am not able to upload any picture anywhere, I might as well give the link to one of my Facebook albums here. For those of you who have not seen it yet, please do let me know what you think. If you have seen them already, I am sorry about this. Will try fixing the problem soon. You can find the album here.
Update: Here is the link to some of the pictures I clicked during my holiday in Rajasthan. Again, it is a link to my Facebook album.
So much for now. I am not sure if these pictures will even appear properly when you try loading the page. Anyway, I am hoping for the best. Many of you might have seen most of these pictures already. Please do bear with me. I will be back with newer pictures ones I manage to upload them somewhere or the other. The present state of the internet here, in the hostel, is making things worse for me. So stay tuned for more. I will not disappoint.
I am writing this post in a hurry, for the fear of the internet being shut down before I manage to complete it. Anyway, here goes.
I got here to Manipal exactly two weeks ago. I was told by my brother and a few of his friends that staying in the hostel made a lot of sense and so I complied. My brother and I moved in together to a double room in Xth block. The problem being that we had to do with common toilets in this block, but well, I was told it was not so bad. So here I come on the 26th of July, to do my MS in Communication, staying in Block X of the MIT hostels.
It all seemed fine for the first couple of days. The food in the mess seemed pretty fine. I got paneer on a daily basis and so I thought it was not a bad deal at all. I wondered why my brother, like many others, chose to eat out every once in a while. The first day of college was pretty okay. The orientation program was boring, but I was looking forward to meeting all the teachers, to be able to discuss about every subject, in order to be able to pick my electives.
So I finally decided to drop Media in Security and Terrorism and also Photography, apart from other boring subjects like Business Media and Media Laws and Ethics. I decided to attend all classes on Photography and Security and Terrorism anyway. But let me not bore you people with academics an stuff. So yeah, my bike arrived here almost a week after I got here. In the meanwhile, we had an “interaction session” with the seniors which some anonymous classmates of mine screwed up by tipping off the staff about. A pity indeed, because it was fun(and also because I was the first one to “introduce” myself, and just a few others had their turn before the session was called off owing to the complaint). So anyway, we had a good time getting to know each other, and I am glad that I had to go first, in a way.
By the end of the first week I was down with a bad flu. About 60% of my class was down with a flu by then, actually, and not everyone was as unlucky as I was. My brother actually bunked classes(a very convenient excuse?) and took care of me. Actually, I couldn’t have done without his help. So anyway, by the time I recovered fully, two major events took place. The first being that my bike got confiscated by the security section. I will not bitch about it just yet, because I would like to have my bike back sometime in the near future, and don’t want to screw my chances.
The second major happening(for me) was that I got elected to be the class representative. It might sound like a small and kidding thing, but it sure does mean a lot to me. I take this as a really good start to my 2-year term here, in MIC. I am also hoping that I get my bike back sometime soon. It might sound unreasonable when they ask you to pay Rs 1000 to have your own bike back, under the condition that you leave the hostel with the bike or send the bike back to your hometown, but those are the rules that the place has. And yes, I will have to try and comply with them.
We had a second “interaction session” with our seniors by the end of the second week in college. This time, they were considerate enough to let me go last. But I still had to do the catwalk and walk the ramp to “prove my modelling experiences.” I did not complain, though. Somehow, I think I managed pretty okay. But I will not forgive Faizan for recording the whole thing and putting it up on YouTube. The link to the video will NOT be disclosed on my blog. So no point asking me! 😛 And Faizan, I will get back at you soon. You wait and watch! Hehe! Just kidding! Actually not, but still. 😀
I now hardly ever eat the the mess, because somehow, I just can’t get myself to eat there anymore. I mean, it is not that the food is bad or anything. I guess I just lost my appetite for good, ever since I was down with flu. Need to work on it if I need to continue with gym and football at the same time. Talking of which, I was forced to attend the football “tryouts” by a couple of my classmates. Sadly for me, it went pretty well and I am more or less in the team. I quit football over a year ago because my gym trainer asked me to. It is only after that that I managed to put on some mass. With my new diet(the lack of it, rather), clubbed with football, my gym trainer back in Chennai is not going to be happy at all.
But anyway, life must go on. The past two weeks have been pretty crazy. Some good things, and some not-so-nice things. But on the whole, I guess all this was not totally unexpected. Barring a few things, that is. But yes, one thing is certain, I am getting to see a lot of new things on a daily basis, and I sure as hell am not complaining. All this is loads of fun. So what if I have a lousy internet connection which does not let me do half of what I would like to do? I can always get a private connection, right? So what if my bike got confiscated? I can always try getting it back, right? And so what if the hostel seems to be a pain at times? I can always move out of the hostel whenever I want to, if things come down to that, right?
So yes, life does go on. And I am loving every bit of this! 🙂
Now this is something I was discussing with my friend Shankar the other day when he told me that Sathyabama was going to launch a satellite in 2010. My reaction: “WTF?!?!?! You must be kidding me! That is insane!” After a minute or two, I realised that it was not really something to be all that surprised about. I checked out the news article and laughed my arse off several times. Here is why:
First, it states that “The Indian Space Research Organisation (ISRO) will launch a nano satellite designed and developed by students of Sathyabama University for free.” Sathyabama doing some such thing for free? LMFAO! Yeah right! It has an ulterior motive always. AL-effing-WAYS! It then goes on to say that the satellite will “study air and earth surface pollution.” For a guy who does not have a single tree in the entire university campus to come out with a public statement that he wants to study the air and surface pollution, he really must have some balls. Sadly, most people still fall for it.
But that is not all. It says that the ISRO’s chairman confirmed this news “after interacting with students associated with designing the satellite at Sathyabhama University.” I will tell you something. Neither me nor my friend Shankar has seen or heard of a single student who has been working on anything to do with the ISRO, leave alone building a satellite. Yes, the college does boast of having some tie ups with the ISRO, but it only boasts. I have seen a board or two in college which says ISRO or some such thing, but have always found such boards outside locked and/or empty rooms. And for the university to claim that “A Space Technology Centre has been established to conduct advanced research in rocketry, satellites and space applications in university campus,” it is absolute trash, the way many of us (ex)students look at it. Something along the lines of the Nanotechnology Research Centre that Sathayabama has been claiming to be building for over 5 years now, but we haven’t seen a single brick being laid in that direction. Jeppiaar has even been claiming that the DRDO(Defence Research and Development Organisation) has requested him(his college) to make “nano banians!” Nano “vests,” that is. It will “keep the army men cool in summer and warm in winter.” A nice idea indeed, but shouldn’t they have at least started SOMETHING nano before doing any such thing? How about building a block for starters? And how about NOT talking about the projects which the country’s defence research organisation wants to work on? Loser!
I literally fell off my sofa(I do get to be lazy while using the laptop late in the night, don’t I?) when I read that the design department “includes a team of 27 students to build the satellite.”
27 students?!?!?! LMFAO! Can you name one, please? And then I read this:
“The third-year engineering students were selected by ISRO after a screening process that included a written test and interview.”
Okay, now that seems plausible, right? Wrong! Knowing the way Sathyabama works, I am SURE that that is not how things would have worked. Anyway, I will give them(the ISRO and NOT Sathyabama) the benefit of the doubt.
“It is impressive to see that the students developing the concept quickly. Their clarity of concept and commitment to completing the project by the end of the year is impressive,” Nair said- I have too many not-so-nice-things to say in response to this and so I might as well skip that.
Now if you thought that even all that was fine, you need to check out the very last line of the article. Here is how it reads:
Jeppiar, pro chancellor, Sathyabama University said: “We are planning to buy a 15-seater aircraft soon. An air hostess training course will also be started to benefit students from rural areas.” He is buying a 15-seater aircraft for air hostess training for girls from rural areas? Sounds very much like the nursing college that he had(I am not sure if it still exists) and there were LOADS of rumours that he did several things he should not have done to those “girls from poor backgrounds.” Something I was totally shocked to hear that first, as I actually respected(and still do, but to a lower extent than I did initially) the guy. And he says will run an air hostess training academy using a 15-seater aircraft! He expects people to believe this humbug?! The worst part is, they will! Oh! And that statement of his must have been funny as hell when he actually said it. The journalist who interviewed him must have died laughing, and it must have been framed to seem like a sensible statement by someone who had the notes or something(and died laughing eventually reading those notes several times). Want to know what the guy talks like? Check this and this.
So what do I have to say to those who are considering they will get their kids to join Sathyabama? DON’T you ever make that mistake! Many a parent has regretted it, and a lot many students feel even worse. The only thing that the college was known for is the food that it serves in its mess halls. And even that is much worse than what it was 3-4 years ago. The quality of teaching is as sub-standard as it has ever been, though some of the staff put in the effort. Hats off to those few. The rest of them are there, I quote, “because it pays more than many other colleges in the city, and has friendlier timings. Women can get back home to meet their kids just in time when the kids get back from school.” If that is the reason why lecturers and professors stick to the college, you seriously do need to reconsider getting yours kids to join the institution(not sure if this place even ethically qualifies to be called that). It is only after you join the place and spend a couple of years there that you get to know that not even the staff are happy with the place. They are there because they have no choice. Stuck , would be an apt term, I guess.
So while you still have the choice, stay away from the place. Far FAR away. You will not regret it. And you can actually go “Awwwww” or “HAHAHAHAHA” at the unfortunate ones like me who did get in(and luckily out too) to the “hell hole,” as we call it.
I am sorry for having a slightly serious post this time. Many might complain, I am sure. I assure you that the next one will be more entertaining, and yet filled with more convincing facts.