hEArD iT tHrOuGh tHe GrApE vInE

A few days into the fourth semester, the ceiling fan in my room was spinning so slow you could have put your hand through it, and if I can remember correctly, some nutcase actually did so. The sultry Suratkal air does not permit people tolerating fans running at a half revolution/second. With the intention of getting it fixed I headed towards the hostel office, flinching because of the putrid smell of unwashed toilets and skipping every few yards to avoid stepping on dog poop. I walked into the hostel office in a sleeveless t-shirt and shorts to protect my modesty. The lady did at the office counter looked at my attire and then at my face. I was explaining to her, in Kannada, the situation re. the broken fan and was half way through it when she pointed at register lying on a table not very far away. Having done so she went back to whatever these hostel workers did to earn a living. Guys who don’t dress up for the occasion of lodging complaints didn’t interest her much. The register that she had pointed to was a complaint book of sorts. At least I gathered as much from its contents. Tube light not working, shelf not fixed blah blah blah. I wrote my complaint in bold hoping that this would speed up the process which it didn’t. A couple of days had passed and there was no trace of an electrician. It was then that (bastard) Prashanth told me that he had the electrician’s number and all I had to do was call him. And call him I did. In marched the electrician a couple of hours later. Problem solved.

This got me thinking about how our college was very much like a miniature India. Indian bureaucracy, I think would be a better phrase. You guys understand what I’m saying right? How many of you have made an entry into the Holy complaint book only to realize a week later that it’s probably being used as toilet paper in times of water shortage? This reminds me of something. The water shortage in 7^thblock is the stuff horror stories are made of. You wake up on a bright sunny morning, having had a rather heavy dinner at Bittu’s or Kalash and your stomach feels a little iffy. You gather you toiletries and head off in the direction of the stench only to realize the bloody taps only release water in droplets. No choice but to hike to the ground floor Gult wing, first block or even worse, the open spaces. How many times did we complain to the warden? Innumerable is the right answer. This guy was quite the Neta I tell you. Did anybody else observe that the only time there was water in the 7^th block tank was when he paid his weekly visits? I’m sure just before heading off for his rounds in the block he’d give the NITK water department a ring and say “Hey, swami, I’m heading to 7^th block to catch those suckers boozing or relaxing on the terrace. While I’m there ensure continuous water supply. Just to rub it in their faces.”

I’m sure, at some point during your stay here,you’ve gone to the mess with a grumbling stomach only to find an infinitely large queue. To add to your misery, some %$^&* in front lets his friend join in and that guy does the same for his friend and so on. Twenty minutes later, when you finally get to the end of the line,what awaits you is garbage being doled out in the name of food. Frustration mounts. You want to tear your hair out, or may be someone else’s. Doesn’t all this ring a bell? Bad roads, bad power supply, bad water supply, bad queues, bad everything. We’ll be facing the same problems when we get out of college.

NITK mirrors India and Indian-ness quite accurately. Yeah we do face a few problems. It’s just that I have learnt to laugh at it and accept it as a part and parcel of studying here, the same way an Indian citizen would shrug his shoulder’s and drive his way through a pot-hole ridden highway as if it was more than he could bargain for. If you find me complaining endlessly about the food, weather, the clubs and everything associated with the college, it’s mostly because I enjoy doing so! When someone says anything against my beloved alma mater, you can be rest assured I’ll be out with brick bats in one hand and the issue of India Today which ranked our college eighth in the other! God bless their souls.I mean the India Today writers.

P.S. The title has no relation to the blog. Its a song by CC Revival that I really like.