If you want to become an engineer, take my first advice – find a way to do it without going to an engineering college. If you are too late to take the first one, take my second one – don’t graduate. Ever. And if you are late to take that one too then you know what I am talking about. They play a cruel joke on us engineers especially the ones they keep in the hostels for 4 whole years. They let you into a paradise. Show you that life is one big playfield. Tell you that you don’t need to worry about a thing in the world. Make you believe that you could sleep as much as you like and pass exams that came once every six months sounding a foghorn before their arrival by studying for a night or better still motivating the roll number next to you to do your bidding. And just when you thought life couldn’t get any rosier, they give you your degree and kick you out of wonderland.
I still remember my first day at BHU. That memory of my first 90 (a quintessential engineering tradition of bowing to the seniors during ragging) is still as vivid as it were yesterday. Past the horrors of ragging (which form great fodder for all jokes in future life), you came into a world which was nothing short of Neverland. Discovering the thrills of a nightout and the joys of bunking just because you could was true unadulterated bliss. Sitting at Limbdi corner munching on samosas and downing umpteen cups of tea while vehemently discussing any and every topic from the latest crisis in ones unreciprocated love life to Clinton’s celebrated one was the very anvil on which lifelong friendships were formed. Those all night jam sessions playing anything from Led Zep to Nirvana and then trooping into bed when the rest of the world was getting ready to get out of it are somehow some of the best memories that come to my mind when I start to think about all the good times that I had. And just when you thought life couldn’t get any better, they promoted you to the fourth year. I am sure that it is a well known secret by now that they pulled the greatest coup by making engineering a four year course. If any outsider were to ever find out what a thorough waste of time the fourth year in engineering is, I am sure the rightful authorities would promptly cut it down to size. And then you suddenly snap right out of the dream the day you realize, your visa at Disney land has expired.
The entire set up reeks of conspiracy I tell you. They give you a hard time at ragging so that you start to have some doubts about your life outside home and all and just when you are about to renounce the world as one bad place they jab you in the ribs and say “Just joking my man. You really think we are here to work?” Then begins the whirlwind experience that is an engineering college. All through the first and the second year, you are more concerned about which guy hooked up with which girl and then trashing their romance over a cup of coffee (a great way to make your sagging egos boost by the way. This comes personally recommended) than which partial integral equation is variable separable and which is not. A music fest holds more juice for your senses than a mechanical engineering workshop and your feet would much rather find their way into a common room than the class room. Just when you are getting a wee bit too comfortable with your surroundings, they up the ante a little in the third year. Just give you a little jolt from the blue to test your nerves. You sit up and take notice that maybe the world is not all that good. Maybe now is the time to separate the men from the boys. Maybe just maybe now comes the time when I show my mettle. If only they let you out then. If only they told you what you were thinking was absolutely right. But no, conspiracy I tell you. It is all one big game that they are playing with our heads. They give you (what they would like you to believe) a hard earned promotion to the fourth year. And much like fattening a lamb before the slaughter or the lull before the storm or getting the hero high before pinning the murder on him, they raise the curtains on the biggest fraud that engineering has to offer. They give you, the fourth year. The seventh semester passes like a blimp on the horizon for a jet going at 900 miles an hour what with the highs of getting a job or that all important admission into the grad school, etc. The eighth semester is what I call the Garfield semester. You relax, you chill, basically you could be lying on a beach in Goa for the entirety of the period and not have a better time. And all the while the wheels of time are turning, the machineries of monstrosity are at work and rest assured the rug is going to be pulled from underneath pretty soon
You graduate from college, have a huge certificate to show for your efforts and a grade card saying graduate, summa-cum-laude (which is just a fancy way of saying that I find writing my resume harder than the end semester) and you are feeling pretty good about yourselves when they give you a taste of the corporate life. And then all the sins that you were forced to commit during that forced carnival period of 4 years at engineering comes bearing down on your soul unlike any bad karma that you have experienced ever before. Where you were accustomed to bunking classes at the drop of a hat, try getting into your cabin a minute later than your boss! Where you thought procrastinating on the assignment was actually a way of showing who was the boss, try pulling that off on the latest presentation that you are supposed to deliver and rest assured your boss will truly show you who the boss actually is. While you thought that night outs were “Kewl”, at work they are more on the lines of being an “Owl” a very very tired overworked barn variety at that. Where you believed that holding an intellectual discussion with the professor was akin to putting your head on the guillotine with your head facing the blade, you will absolutely feel at home in the corporate environment though because of entirely different reasons. And where you thought that work was something you did to break the monotony of playing, the monotony and the work still retain their place, just that the play part is woefully absent altogether.All this makes me feel that Satan is indeed playing with our souls. He shows us the joys of the world only to make us feel more wretched. He gives us the demo version and just when you are about to reach the final podium, asks for the registration number for unlocking it promising 32 different levels at same time. While in the Eden of college, he shows you the apple of a “better corporate life” and you bite only to fall and never rise again. The dark lord holds fort at all our repositories of education and knowledge and sends forth his dark forces to haunt you for the rest of your lives as you leave those exalted shores for the doomed pastures of beyond. He makes sure that whenever you remember your hostel room, you always feel a tinge in your heart and a longing to go back only to realize that your soul is trapped forever in the whirl of corporate politics, impossible deadlines and frustratingly shallow Microsoft Office tinkering. So don’t fall into the trap. Don’t enjoy your life for it is not going to last. Don’t make merry in the campus. Lead a life of virtue and astuteness and your soul will not be found wanting at exit. But wasn't that what they told Adam and Eve?
I still remember my first day at BHU. That memory of my first 90 (a quintessential engineering tradition of bowing to the seniors during ragging) is still as vivid as it were yesterday. Past the horrors of ragging (which form great fodder for all jokes in future life), you came into a world which was nothing short of Neverland. Discovering the thrills of a nightout and the joys of bunking just because you could was true unadulterated bliss. Sitting at Limbdi corner munching on samosas and downing umpteen cups of tea while vehemently discussing any and every topic from the latest crisis in ones unreciprocated love life to Clinton’s celebrated one was the very anvil on which lifelong friendships were formed. Those all night jam sessions playing anything from Led Zep to Nirvana and then trooping into bed when the rest of the world was getting ready to get out of it are somehow some of the best memories that come to my mind when I start to think about all the good times that I had. And just when you thought life couldn’t get any better, they promoted you to the fourth year. I am sure that it is a well known secret by now that they pulled the greatest coup by making engineering a four year course. If any outsider were to ever find out what a thorough waste of time the fourth year in engineering is, I am sure the rightful authorities would promptly cut it down to size. And then you suddenly snap right out of the dream the day you realize, your visa at Disney land has expired.
The entire set up reeks of conspiracy I tell you. They give you a hard time at ragging so that you start to have some doubts about your life outside home and all and just when you are about to renounce the world as one bad place they jab you in the ribs and say “Just joking my man. You really think we are here to work?” Then begins the whirlwind experience that is an engineering college. All through the first and the second year, you are more concerned about which guy hooked up with which girl and then trashing their romance over a cup of coffee (a great way to make your sagging egos boost by the way. This comes personally recommended) than which partial integral equation is variable separable and which is not. A music fest holds more juice for your senses than a mechanical engineering workshop and your feet would much rather find their way into a common room than the class room. Just when you are getting a wee bit too comfortable with your surroundings, they up the ante a little in the third year. Just give you a little jolt from the blue to test your nerves. You sit up and take notice that maybe the world is not all that good. Maybe now is the time to separate the men from the boys. Maybe just maybe now comes the time when I show my mettle. If only they let you out then. If only they told you what you were thinking was absolutely right. But no, conspiracy I tell you. It is all one big game that they are playing with our heads. They give you (what they would like you to believe) a hard earned promotion to the fourth year. And much like fattening a lamb before the slaughter or the lull before the storm or getting the hero high before pinning the murder on him, they raise the curtains on the biggest fraud that engineering has to offer. They give you, the fourth year. The seventh semester passes like a blimp on the horizon for a jet going at 900 miles an hour what with the highs of getting a job or that all important admission into the grad school, etc. The eighth semester is what I call the Garfield semester. You relax, you chill, basically you could be lying on a beach in Goa for the entirety of the period and not have a better time. And all the while the wheels of time are turning, the machineries of monstrosity are at work and rest assured the rug is going to be pulled from underneath pretty soon
You graduate from college, have a huge certificate to show for your efforts and a grade card saying graduate, summa-cum-laude (which is just a fancy way of saying that I find writing my resume harder than the end semester) and you are feeling pretty good about yourselves when they give you a taste of the corporate life. And then all the sins that you were forced to commit during that forced carnival period of 4 years at engineering comes bearing down on your soul unlike any bad karma that you have experienced ever before. Where you were accustomed to bunking classes at the drop of a hat, try getting into your cabin a minute later than your boss! Where you thought procrastinating on the assignment was actually a way of showing who was the boss, try pulling that off on the latest presentation that you are supposed to deliver and rest assured your boss will truly show you who the boss actually is. While you thought that night outs were “Kewl”, at work they are more on the lines of being an “Owl” a very very tired overworked barn variety at that. Where you believed that holding an intellectual discussion with the professor was akin to putting your head on the guillotine with your head facing the blade, you will absolutely feel at home in the corporate environment though because of entirely different reasons. And where you thought that work was something you did to break the monotony of playing, the monotony and the work still retain their place, just that the play part is woefully absent altogether.All this makes me feel that Satan is indeed playing with our souls. He shows us the joys of the world only to make us feel more wretched. He gives us the demo version and just when you are about to reach the final podium, asks for the registration number for unlocking it promising 32 different levels at same time. While in the Eden of college, he shows you the apple of a “better corporate life” and you bite only to fall and never rise again. The dark lord holds fort at all our repositories of education and knowledge and sends forth his dark forces to haunt you for the rest of your lives as you leave those exalted shores for the doomed pastures of beyond. He makes sure that whenever you remember your hostel room, you always feel a tinge in your heart and a longing to go back only to realize that your soul is trapped forever in the whirl of corporate politics, impossible deadlines and frustratingly shallow Microsoft Office tinkering. So don’t fall into the trap. Don’t enjoy your life for it is not going to last. Don’t make merry in the campus. Lead a life of virtue and astuteness and your soul will not be found wanting at exit. But wasn't that what they told Adam and Eve?
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