i came across this list of stuff i had written while at the institute. historical documents of no poccible interest to anyone except, of course for me. so i decided to plug them into the blog. here's the first of them- madras diary. this was written shortly after a trip to matscience with roghu.
madras diary.
I'm back. not that it makes an iota of difference to the universe at
large,but for what little it is worth, in the words of arnie, I'm back. an
early morning visit to the feeding trough also known as c mess, someone
told me that he had a long and detailed conversation with me over the
weekend. which naturally leads to either one of, or more than one of the
following conclusions:a. he has been hallucinating. b. my phantasm has
been doing the rounds here, while i have been in madras, not unlike the
case of pizpot gargavarr on frogstar b; the body liked fishing, the mind
liked sex, hence an attempt to mix the two lead to untold disasters, thus
the two went their own ways. and the last explanation is that of the long
lost brother, apropos innumerable amitabh movies and kumbh melas.
anyway, madras.
roghu started the trip by telling me that tickets were for an insane 375.
after getting my heartbeat down from the radiofrequency rate which this
amount had sent it to, i asked if they were providing a portkey. no.
turned out to be a peculiarly disgusting bus which had no springs, and the
seats, while reclining had a tendency to spring back, thus sending u
hurtling into the seat opposite. face first. we got there. incidentally,
the joy of travelling with a couple of smartypants nonsmokers cannot be
overemphasised. we got there. back creaking, red eyed.,but we got there.
now what? tally ho for matscience. now, on my last trip, two years back, a
trembling interview candidate then, they were building this huge monorail
track. thats what vijay told me. well.... no monorail. plain old suburban
trains. which dont run on a weekend. (at this point, i should say
something like 'my cup overfloweth', but as we go on, u will see why i
have opted to stay silent. this calls for a bloody swimming pool).
autos in madras.
they dont run by meter, as in blore. nor do they run routes, like cal.
here, the delicate and subtle art of negotiation has been perfected. (no
wonder there are soo many tams in the union govt.) whatever price the
autowallah mentions, point ur finger at him and laugh. after a while, he
reduces to a more manageable fare. then the bargaining starts in earnest.
only when u have threatened to walk away thrice and he has invoked the
names of ur 14 forefathers can the business be considered concluded and we
are on our way.
at matscience.
aaaaaaaaaaaah!!!!!!!!! the joy of waking up old pals, who had been whiling
away the night hours engaged in earthshattering research activities
involving the comp and some unmentionable sites...... imsc pongal is
better than the c mess version, they actually have cashew nuts in it. but
it's still pongal. this is one of those small cosy places where everyone
knows everyone, and its impossible to sit grouchily in one corner of the
mess and mutter into ur tea without any interference. life forms at matsc
come in four varieties: faculties, jrfs, postdocs and dogs. the dogs, i
was delighted to learn share the same hostel privileges as do the
students, and most of them have sat through enough classes to fulfill the
credit requirements for an msc.
the toilets.
must devote a couple of lines to them. on the whole, good. ample water,
unlike f block back here. shower door doesnt bolt. bu there have been no
recorded cases of intrusions, so.....
the beach.
the sight of pure blue from horizon to horizon for someone whose
visibility is limited to 40 feet on campus is awesome. i could go on for a
while about the crashing waves and all that, but I'm sure u guys get the
drift. so, we braved the (i would like to say towering waves, but i must
be honest) little surf there was and bathed. hunger, crept up unsuspected
like a mugger--- and wham! turbasu suggested a buffet at 120 per head at
planet yum (now, this took some time to register, i thought this was the
tam way of pronouncing planet m). yum. i think not. this place was
splashed with violently clashing orange and yellow colours. i digression
abt places to eat. having been fed at at all ends of the spectrum, one can
appreciate the grandeur of those places where the chandelier has crystal
pieces and not plastic. or where slightly frayed cushions join teak and
pinewood to create the right kinda atmosphere for pipe tobacco and
whiskey. but planet yum. one of those great places patronised by the kind
who wear their cultural bastardy on their sleeves. the kind who think kfc
and macdonalds is the best form of cultural emancipation. so we ate.
started with panipuri/phuchka, called the best this side of the vindhyans.
the water was jal-bloody-jeera. then a chat which tasted of rasam. then
the main course: nans and some nonveg preparation, which left my fingers
red. after a liberal dose of soap and water. 160 per head. not that i am
complaining. yet. but when roghu started practically singing and dancing
around in circles howling how great the foods was that i gnashed my teeth.
let it be noted that it was only the code of the bhattacharyas which
stopped me from terminating the mazumders. (roghu is aprotim mazumder).
then roghu insisted on stopping to photograph, of all things, a small and
rather smelly dog. he stopped, it stopped, there was a passage of some
signal between them, the shutter snapped, and the little canine sauntered
on, its life undoubtedly enriched thus. probably a kindred feeling between
two smelly creatures.
back to matscience.
came the eveing, came kinjal, via the coromandel. brought grass. we went
out, ate. closest approximation to north indian nonveg possible, good
actually. came back, visited their workplace. good comps, good net. me had
begun to show withdrawal symptoms, not having played tetris for a day.
back t the hostel. then smoked grass. in a kolke. roghu, him of the three
hour lectures on the evils of booze, smoke, grass, grabbed the kolke with
both hands and puffed like it was his last act on this earth. sleep. their
hostels are cool. i dossed in this room whose occupant was off on some
school. huge pencil sketch of feynman on the wall. turbasu wandered into
some lady's room (the lady being absent). apparently she came in at six
thirty and kicked him out.
sunday morning.
was bright. coffee on the roof. then a lie in. then more coffee. then
lunch. another lie in. finished a pg wodeh in the meantime. then afternoon
coffee. then, before we knew it, was time to go back. so bid goodbye the
humans, the dogs and the institute, got a couple of snaps of kinjal and
turbasu, and heigh ho. fast traffic. long wait at stn. stn has
flatscreens. wow. new train. fundu loos. hand shower and everything. back
in blore. now in lab.
now the persistent obsesion with clean loos has a meaning. which will be explained at a more opportune moment.
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