Random Encounters…

Random Encounters…

In the 1.5 years I’ve spent in Bangalore, I along with other acquaintances have had rather interesting/irritating encounters with the autorickshaw drivers of the city. Some days back was the last straw…yet another time we had a verbal fight with yet another such person. Suddenly I was telling my roomie that I could write a book on the experiences I’ve had with this breed of public transport employees. She said, well maybe not book, but a blog possibly….

So here’s an assorted list of random incidents which have taken place in Bangalore with unsuspecting people like me (now I’ve become street-smart literally).

1. Me and my roomie(#1) were coming back from MG road to Kormangala via Intermediate Ring Road, the auto breaks down and we stranded in the middle of nowhere. Our autowala very considerately (I’m not being sarcastic) stopped another auto and we gladly hopped in (leaving the poor guy stranded, with a broken auto). As we relapsed into our normal chitchat, it was about 5 minutes before we realized the meter had not been run. On asking, he very insolently said, ’30 rupees de dena’ [just give 30 rupees], (the actual fare is about 15, 20 at the maximum). We said, already wary of such incidents, ‘kis baat ka?’[for what] He said,’100, 200 nahi bola atleast’ [atleast I didn’t ask 100 or 200 bucks], and without speaking a word, turned back the auto in the same lane (yes on a one way lane) and said, ‘wapas chodke aata hun wahi pe’ [I’ll drop you back there]. By that time, we were also equally annoyed and said, ‘haan aap wahi karo’ [yes you do that]. And he starts on his way back, muttering to himself ‘pehle jao fir wapas chodke aao’[first I pick them up and then I have to drop them back]. At this, I said ‘kisne bola aapko chodneko? Yahin chod do.’ [Who told you to drop us back? Leave us here] (We were already worried because where our auto had broken down, there were no people on the road (except in cars) and the area had no lights/shops etc. (anyone been to Intermediate Ring Road will know). Thankfully, (realizing that he was losing money by going back), he stopped. We got off, stranded a little less to nowhere, with no autos in sight, having to walk all the way to the nearest populated area, Ejipura.

2. My roomie (#1) was coming from somewhere and got off at her destination, talking on the phone. She handed a 50 Rupees note to the autowala, and was supposed to get some 25 Rupees back I think. He gave some 15/20 Rupees less and started leaving. She counted the money, and on realizing the discrepancy, asked the guy who said something like ‘no change’, or ‘wrong calculation’. She got so pissed that she sat back in the auto and demanded to go to the police station. He started giving the money, but she was not mollified; she just wanted to go to the police. Finally, after some time of heated exchange, she acquiesced and got off. (Admittedly, they guy could have made a genuine error, but with so many precedents, it’s a little difficult to digest.)

3. Me and my roomie (#2) were coming from Forum to home (hardly 3 Kms away) at about 9pm. We asked about 5-6 autos; all demanded ridiculously large amounts (double/more than that). Finally, when the 7^th autowala demanded the same amount, I lost it and said ‘kis baat ka’? [for what] Pat came the usual reply ‘return nahi milta’ [Don’t get a return passenger]. I said something like I’ll tell the police /complain, when the guy said, daring me, ‘kar lo complain, this is my number plate.’ I got so annoyed that had I had the phone number of the local auto helpline/police, I would have called there and then. I had even memorized the number plate for some time after that. It was that day that I finally added the helpline number in my phonebook.

4. Me alone, coming back from CAT exam (Inspired by a Tête-à-Tête) the only experience which was pleasant.

5. Me and my roomie (#1), reached M.G Road, and handed the driver a 50 rupee note (the bill was 49). He pocketed the note, and without a word, started the engine. We asked about the 1 rupee (I know I know it was just 1 rupee), he said without even checking, ‘nahi hai’ [no change]. We got so annoyed by his insolent attitude that I asked him to return to the note; I’d give him the change. Then, between me and roomie, we coughed up the change – 4 10 rupee notes and 9 1 rupee coins (if I remember correctly). He took the money, his face an expression of dismay mixed with amusement at our cheapness (I always maintain it’s a matter of principle).

6. Me and a friend returning from Garuda mall at about 9:45 pm; as we came out of the mall and neared the group of autowalas,(who stand there like vultures, waiting for their prey), I predicted to my friend, ‘they’ll start with 100’. And I was right; the moment an autowala said ‘100’, my friend and I started laughing. He (autowala) looked at me and said ‘kitna mein jayega?’ [In how much will you go?], I said ‘nahi jana….aap khud hi jao’ [I don’t want to go…you can go]. Then another one started at 80, finally we went at 60.

7. Me and my roomies were coming from Garuda, again same case, the moment he said the rate, we started laughing, and seeing our sudden laugh, and the autowala’s flustered face, adjoining autowala started laughing, finally one said 60 , but we wanted go by 1.5 meter only. Turns out, by 1.5, the price came to 70, we felt so foolish. It’s not that we didn’t how much it cost. Just that in Bangalore, the auto meters have all kinds of adjustments done, designed to get the autowala the desired fare. The passengers might think themselves lucky to get an autowala agree to go by meter, only to be later shocked by the unusually high fare.

8. Me and my roomie (#1) were going to Forum from our home, and as usual all the autowalas (standing in a cluster) started asking obscene rates, when another guy arrived and asked for the same place. Seeing us ask, he offered to club together, we agreed. The autowala took an alternative route (via NGV which was fine by us (i.e. my roomie and I)). The other guy wanted to get off at someplace near JNC (Jyoti Nivas College) so obviously the route was wrong for him. He kept saying ‘sukh sagar se chalo… ‘[go via sukh sagar], but the autowala kept mumbling something about traffic and went on the same route. Our co-passenger’s anger was apparently rising, and he started shouting, ‘what do you think of yourself. We are giving you money, go in the route we tell you.’ Obviously, the autowala got angry and stopped the auto at the side of a road. Both came out and were near about in fisticuffs, while we two sat there, mouths agape. I don’t remember how, but somehow the guy cooled and got off there, even giving the shared money. We heaved a sigh of relief.

9. It was a bright sunny Saturday during our initial days in Bangalore; we had to go to this place called Vijaynagar (atleast that’s what we thought at that time) for a gas connection. The first auto we got, we asked him, and he agreed immediately. Being the foolish naïve girls we were at that time, we hadn’t even bothered to ask about atleast an idea of what the location of that area was. All we had was a gas agency’s number and the name of the area. We asked the autowala if he knew the gas agency in that area. He answered, very confidently, in the affirmative. As we started, we crossed Jayanagar, J.P.Nagar, Banashankari, and we started wondering whether we were headed the right direction. In fact my roomie very intelligently wondered aloud’ why would a gas agency be located so far?’ Surely a branch would be located nearer, like in the actual city?’ We again asked the autowala if he knew where he was going. Again he asserted that he knew. Slowly the meter crossed 70-80-90… at 99 he reset the meter and now we were totally confused as where we were going. Then we reached Vijaynagar area and were atleast happy that we’d reached the area we were looking for. After a lot of inquiring, we finally reached the gas agency. Aware of the distance from the main city, we asked the autowala if he’d wait. He agreed (it had been his lucky day).We were already doubtful if we were in the right place; on enquiring about the person we were supposed to meet, we met a blank. They didn’t know. We called up whoever had given us the directions; turns out she had said ‘Viveknagar’ – an area just 3-4 kilometres away from home. Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhh… With tired faces, we started our journey back. At the end of our uneventful road trip, our pockets were lighter by about 300 bucks, while the autowala left with a very satisfied wallet. Actually, this incident is actually more about the folly that we committed in our ignorance and not so much about autowalas. So what? Now I can proudly claim to know about Vijaynagar, and the gas agency there (not that anyone is asking, but still..)

Besides these incidents, there would have been several others..

Some have skipped my memory,

Some are too winded to jot down...

A few more things (this time positive) about autowalas which makes me realize that not all of them are bad; some honest workers also drive in the streets...just that we don’t happen to be their fortunate passengers too often..

Autowalas who agree by meter are, invariably, the ones who have change, down to a single rupee.

And if they don’t, they hunt her and there until they finally return the change.

As I sit here writing all this…. I try to think of some more positive things about the autowalas of Bangalore. Unfortunately I’m unable to come up with any more...

It’s a sad fact I guess...

Let’s leave it at that…

Food for thought: - Have you ever wondered why the Blood group field in the Autodriver-identification printout stuck in the interior of each auto, is empty?

Of End Semesters, Everlasting Memories, and Engineering...

Computer Science & Engineering – Batch of 2001-2005, Institute undisclosed.
Sounds rather heavy right? Well if you meet any of those 90 odd people who were part of this batch, your perceptions would change absolutely.

Let’s start with the beginning….

Oct 5^th 2001 was the very first day of college. However as lady luck wanted, all the people included in the above title were not in the same class… they’d all been divided; some were in other batch classes (IT). None of them knew what was going to happen to them in the next 4 years, life was looking rather bleak, what with the dirty white uniform that they all had to put on every single day for the initial 15-20 days. Anyway 1^st year came and went - the college Freshers happened, the Group Freshers happened and life was looking promising, especially with new batch of ‘bakras’ (oops ! freshers) coming to replace our sorry places..

Come 2^nd year and the batch finally was in the same place, some new faces, others somewhat familiar. In fact most people were familiar with each other, having been in the same class for the past one year, getting bored, feeling sleepy yet wide awake(fearing the onslaught of chalk pieces from a rather restless teacher), sitting in the tutorial classes ( a rather inhuman method of student torture, where childlike innocent students were made to sit in tiny seemingly airless rooms, and continuously asked to solve questions which seemed like Greek to most of the students) totally clueless about the question asked, yet very diligently looking at the blank pages of the tutorial copy, looking at the watch or, if one was lucky, the tutorial copy of the ‘smarter’ person next who was furiously writing the answers as if he was born to rule the harsh tutorial world. Anyway, much of the 3^rd semester was spent introducing themselves to the freshers so that they could ‘guide’ them in the hard years ahead, measuring up the unknown faces in the class, surviving NS (Networks & Systems) tutorials (the classes were no problem, as there it was not a pre-requisite to listen), and last but obviously not the least, passing all the subjects without any red marks. Some succeeded, some didn’t. At that time, those red marks seemed like the world was ending, now, fortunately, I suppose they hardly count.

Anyway, as the time flowed, they all started to know about each other; things like who was usually topping the class, who was more interested in the locations of other branches, who’s name was unpronounceable because of the lack of vowels, who sat in the 1^st bench just so he could make a video of the teacher interacting with the class, who made copious notes, became common knowledge. Education-wise, not many people were looking to actually top the class; people just wanted to get the semesters over with, scraping through somehow. For the first 3 semesters, there was never a stolid topper – who was the unbeatable. People very generously shared the position one semester after another.

Come 4^th semester, and the scenario changed. Besides having no tutorials (something which all the other branches envied), there emerged in the scheme of things, a rather tall lanky guy who hadn’t really been noticed before. He seemed to be scoring high scores everywhere, getting the teacher’s praises too. Leaving a few, others were hardly bothered. Let the high scorers be. The rest grappled with the classes and tests, especially in the Data Structures environment. Quite understandably, the subject was totally incomprehensible. The teacher would give the batch assignments (some weird problems to solve which involved writing programs) to complete, submission by some date. Most assignment sheets would go unopened, unread and ignored; most of them would do nothing about it. A few would maybe open it , read it ‘n’ number of times and decide to go watch a movie in somebody else’s room, finally some 9-10 (even that is a big number) would finally complete it, on their own. These 9-10 people were the saviours of the entire batch of the C.S; everybody else copied from them obviously. Unite and share – that was their motto. It wouldn’t reflect well on the class if a few people submitted and others didn’t it, would it? So, by the last day, everyone owned an assignment – albeit copied, but one nonetheless. The professor knew it, but poor guy, what could he do? Although he had an idea as to who were the original authors, he could never disregard the others; and he was way too nice to take a viva or ask each one the logic of the programs s/he supposedly wrote.

And that was that. Unite and Share became their motto for the rest of their engineering education. Maybe that was the best education they got in that class. Fourth semester came and went, and there emerged an all time topper – the tall lanky guy, his fundamentals were way too clear, although his handwriting wasn’t and still isn’t. He did it all so effortlessly, or so it seemed. Somehow, from the fifth semester onwards, for some unknown reason, the gods (lecturers!) became kind to this batch; the marks came much easier – passing a subject wasn’t all that hard. Either that or the subjects were less of Latin and more of simple spoken English or maybe the lecturers realized that if this batch was not given a standard amount of marks, none of them would qualify for the cut-offs in the coming year of campus placements. Whatever reason it was, the class was much happier.

Then, the clamour for the top rank lessened, except for 1-2 people maybe. Tall lanky guy was not bothered, not because of overconfidence, but because he really didn’t care whether he topped or not. After 2 years of groaning over classes, labs and boring subjects, the class seemed to loosen up. The annual fest was coming up, and many decided to participate. Many groups were formed – especially for this ramp competition ‘Spandan’ where one had to think up a theme and perform a fashion show according to it. Two major groups came up in CS– one, which was formed together with some guys of other braches with a unique theme of peace and violence, a whole lot of blood and gore. The other group selected a traditional theme of Colours.

Weeks were spent in bunking classes, planning the performance; however no real practice started until the last week. Classes were pretty much non-existent; the teachers had also loosened up and were not always very keen on taking classes. The few who did were coaxed to take attendance and then leave (The best kind of class ever!). And so, with Culrav, Athletic meet etc., 5^th semester disappeared.

The Computer science batch had lost all habits of attending regular classes – Forever. It was as though the Gods were also on their side; their schedule was such that they had afternoons off, sometimes whole days off. So while other branches plodded off to college every day, CS people cooled off in the hostels, playing AOE/watching movie/timepassing/sleeping planning what to do. Life had become a series of events, 90% of which were not even remotely related to education. The only things they did in most classes were holler, doodle, comment, look at the watch, look outside but almost never at the black/whiteboard. Some lecturers didn’t care (they just taught and left), some were tortured by their inattentiveness (like the guest lecturer who taught Management Information Systems, who used to get frustrated trying to control the class, but then he got another job at IIIT , and then he stopped bothering).

Speaking of this guest lecturer, his classes were one of a kind, he’d come in smiling and start reading something from some Xeroxed pages he had, irrespective of the number of people in the class listening. Actually, he didn’t have an option; nobody listened, except for a few who sat in the front benches, and nodded every 60 seconds, as if carefully understanding and noting each word spoken by the lecturer. The lecturer would also then, very gratefully, just look at them and explain, totally ignoring the antics of the rest of the class. Sometimes, (quite often actually) for no reason whatsoever he’d talk about how his wife was (is) a doctor. It was during those times only, when the entire class would come to attention. Initially, since he was a soft spoken guy, the class (which had metamorphosed into a rowdy, loud and mischievous bunch of school kids) wouldn’t even let him teach more than 10-15 minutes. After that time, all one could hear in the class was ‘Attendance! Attendance! Bas sir bas sir’. Then, at an attempt to teach a lesson, he would ask a question to one of them individual, who, if unable to answer (but inevitable) would have to remain standing. Behold the unity of the branch! After some time, the whole class would be standing, for the same question.

Surprisingly, however, in the end semester, their tortured teacher was very generous with the marks, probably because he was ecstatic that he was finally rid of the tyrannical batch. In the same semester, they were taught by another rather sweet teacher… well he was more of a senior actually; the first time he came to take the class, for a few minutes everyone was sure he’d lost his way or something, (maybe he was a junior) but then, when started introducing himself, ’Hi, I’m -----, I’m going to teach you FCC (Fundamentals of Computer C what??).By the way I myself am a 2003 pass out (‘Oh My God! he was just a year or 2 senior to us!!’ was the general thought floating among the students), and I know how it feels to be where you are, no interest at all in studies…but anyway I’m here to teach anyway’ (maybe not the exact words). That was a nice class… for a change, the batch decided to voluntarily listen, maybe not all of them, maybe not all the time, but atleast it looked like a class was actually going on and knowledge was actually being imparted. The friendly lecturer would be smiling, and being friendly, but he’d make sure that people dint take advantage of his congeniality; atleast he tried to make sure – he almost succeeded most of the time. The batch didn’t feel like going against him, mainly he was trying to very hard to make them actually learn.

That was a semester full of fun during classes (what with the number of unusual teachers they had), with the exception of some labs (Networking), where the one floor they were allotted was either Non-A.C (hot and humid) or a virtual part of the Arctic Circle. There were just some times (during the lab exams) that some of the batch started feeling a little pressure (those programs just didn’t make sense and never ever worked). Anyway, by the end of it, mostly everybody had mugged up the few programs, and all they worried about was the Viva. The rest of the semester was a breeze mostly…

Final year was the best year of all, for everyone…
The most important event of the final year – Placements started even before the beginning of classes…
Some got placed in the first company that came… some didn’t,
Some got rejected due to psychometry, some due to aptitude test, and some due to interviews…
Some deliberately messed up interviews,
Some deliberately tried to mess up the written tests (one going as far as to calculate the correct answer and then mark the wrong one.. all in the same sheet; obviously the recruiters saw through him and selected him anyway…such was the talent of their topper…yes the topper!)

The feeling that each felt after getting selected was indescribable – exhilarating, ecstatic. One who had already been selected had to really work hard to not jump around too much around people who were still waiting for the day. Slowly, the percentage of placed people increased and the joblessness of the batch decreased to previously unheard levels…

Absolutely free… with so much time even to attend the pre-placement talks with fellow batchees who were yet to make it, and waiting with them throughout the interviews and the results… supporting, hoping….The freedom that perpetuated the batch was addictive….one got so used to it (no wonder, once they joined the respective companies, they so missed college). That was the time when the rest of the branches got a small whiff of what the CS people were experiencing for the past 1.5 years. Zero lectures…zero tutorials…

Ironically, in the 7^th semester, the CS people were swamped with assignments and assignments and assignments; nothing to strain their mental capacities but their hands and pockets sure felt the strain. Hands –because of all the endless mindless copying from a Xerox of somebody else’s assignment, pockets – because of the Xeroxes of ‘n’ number of pages of books that they knew they’d never read…Assignment tracking, (find someone who’d done it), Xeroxing, copying, submitting, occupied a lot of time…. but that was about it. Classes were unheard of; the one lecture that was supposed to take place at 2pm in the afternoon got cancelled by the teacher himself at about 12pm - news about such cancellations spread faster than light itself.

And also, the final year project…5 people in a team, led by the first slotter (one of the top 18 ranked in the class), followed by the 2^nd, 3rd, 4^th and 5^th slotters (top 19-36, and so on), each team doing a project under a lecturer/professor of the CS department. At the end, as the batch finally realized, it all depended on who the guide was, and who was present at the project presentation - minor lecturer politics, personal prejudices, all had an effect on the grades of each of the 90 odd students. People hardly ever worked diligently for the project, except for the one week before each presentation, when many of the batch (mostly 1^st and 2^nd slotters) were seen with worried faces, hurrying about, trying to put up a presentable picture of the progress (which was usually zero) of the project. Sometimes, they succeeded, while sometimes, the examiners saw thru them. Presentations were customized according to the people who were going to see the presentation – one teacher was very serious about lines, bullets, colouring etc. For him, the students went to all pains to make the presentations colourful and well margined; he was the sole person due to which, during exams, assignments, the sale of the stationery shops around the institute, sky-rocketed.

It was in the midst of all these endless copies and presentations and so on, when the annual events like Culrav , J-Lal etc started coming up, that realization dawned on them; this was the last time they would experience these previously taken-for granted events. Nostalgia started creeping in into everybody’s hearts… some pretended that they were glad to be finally leaving the college, some said that at last the town was going to be left far behind.. yet none could help feeling a little glum – the life, the classes, the teachers, the friends, the hostels, the mess food , it was all going to change. And what a drastic change!

The cancelled classes started to take the form of something so elusive – they hoped that they had a class; atleast they’d get to go to the college…such extreme hopes were not the norm… just once in a while in the wee days of the year. Culrav brought some people to tears, suddenly, no one really wanted college to end… they no longer minded the endless lectures, the torrid heat, the end semester exams, everything seemed so much less annoying…

The final semester was the most Timepass as well as the most emotional semesters for this batch of Computer Science & Engineering batch. The assignments and presentations and assignments had ceased….it was all about treats and trip and farewells; those were the activities for them (and for the rest of branches too… but they had to contend with classes also).

A few were yet to get their job,
Some tried for 2^nd jobs,
Some got 2^nd jobs,
Some tried for 3^rd jobs,
Some got 3^rd jobs,
Some got calls from MBA colleges,
Some gave their GRE,
Some got through,
Some didn’t,
Most of the batch knew where they were headed after college….
Soon, the list of lasts started finishing, and with each farewell, the days of departure came nearer. Filling diaries and shooting photos became the order of the days…

Moods became somber, the last 4 years seemed so less a period, the pains of the place dimmed while small things started seeming to precious; the Chaat at the crossing, Maggi of Panditji’s canteen, the crossing trains, the dingy hostel room with the broken window (overlooking the main road where one would strain their eyes to recognize that girl from NGH who was going to the temple near by), the MP Hall steps, the tasteless mess food. Friends, who had been the support system at this place, were not necessarily going to be at the same place….the way of life was going to change; no more living on 100 rupees for the entire week, living on one’s pal’s bank account. Yet, that seemed so much better than working (did the batch even understand that word anymore?) in a new place, with new people.

The final semester exams were more like a sham…no one studied,, except the last few hours…with most of the people hooked on their PCs, watching the Culrav videos/photos, or chatting with their friends across the hostels, or playing AOE, or downloading a movie., or writing CDs, or orkutting…
Usually people wanted the exams to end as soon as possible. This time, nobody was in a hurry and yet the days flew, and finally it was the last day of exams (to be followed by the final project presentation a day or two later. After that final hurdle, many were leaving the next day; some were lingering on for a few more days, holding on to some trivial excuse.

Nobody was in a mood to study, and the subject (Data Mining) was one which had had no classes past the 1^st sessional exams; the main professor never came and instead sent a substitute who happened to get married in the early half of the semester. She never bothered to teach after that, the batch never bothered to bother; it was a tacit happy agreement. Nobody was even remotely prepared for the question paper that was handed to them that morning of the 2^nd/3^rd of may 2005. 100 marks paper with choice of attempting 10 questions of 10 marks each. The problem was, each question, even if anyone knew the method of solving it at all, would take approximately 30minutes and the paper was of two and a half hours duration. People were scribbling on their papers, the sorrows of leaving forgotten, toiling under the innumerable calculations and unanswered questions. Its ironic – the most carefree branch (closely running with IT) had to actually work hard on their final paper. Paper over, most were still in shock, hoping that the professor would be kind enough to just pass them, irrespective what they had doodled in the answer sheets. Once the worry was past, they realized that college semester exams were finally over – many would never have to give an examination ever again…

The project presentation kept everyone on their feet for the next 2 days, everyone running around to get the final printouts, hoping that everything went ahead without a glitch on D-day. The maximum requirement was that they passed – that was all they wanted; marks were irrelevant. The final presentation turned out to b an anticlimax of sorts; after so much anticipation and trepidation, the students were not harassed at all. Guess the examiners knew that at this point of time, nothing would be achieved by failing/harassing the students… it was better to just let them enjoy…After all, this was their final semester!

Then started the final goodbyes… the batch of 2005 was finally leaving the college.
As the trains, filled with students with all their luggage, left the station… the friends who had come to see them off kept waving, until they could no longer distinguish the faces waving back, tears obstructing their view……..

They came, they saw, they conquered, and the only impressions they took back with them were of Chums, Chats, Chaats, and Computers.