There are few students who never care for their
studies since they were small kids and there are some kids who are smart
enough but become careless when they come to know that they would get nothing
out of their hard work.
I and my friend Mangal fall in the second category.
I’d reached to the college late not only because I don’t have car but also
because I had to meet my girlfriend who never bothers of my time. I'm happy
she cares of hers! Mangal reached the college even later than me.
In fourth year of engineering colleges, it becomes a
fashion or custom; not to go college. The ones who still go (despite knowing
the custom) are considered fools or Chootias.
It was the viva of one subject. Amm, I’ve forgotten the name of that subject.
Wait for a while. Let me remember the name of the subject. Well, I get confused
with short form names of the subjects. Engineering students called the subjects by their
short cut names. The names are good till the day last external paper of that
semester takes place. After that day, it becomes harder for the students like
me to remember the short names as all the short names appear the same or rather
mixing up like Khichdi. Oh, yes, it
was the viva of ES (Embedded System). ES meant Electrical Science when we were
in the first year. It’s not all my fault only that I always get confused with the
short names. You see!
It quite hard to ignore the people who were once
your friends and they’ve become your enemies now. It happens in everybody’s
life. Especially in college days. They become friends in first year and fight
with each other when they fail to see their own friends' either rising high or
doing pretty well with the girls.
Mangal was still to see the main gate of the college
so I chose to sit in the library so that I could read some news papers and
magazines in peace and also could keep my enemies out of my sight. People, who
know to love and respect a lot, also know how to hate madly and kick ass when
it’s required. Well, I just flipped through the pages of the news paper and
looked at the photos that started from the third page of the Delhi times that began with
some half naked rich Indian ladies and ended into almost full naked western
ladies. I wondered if becoming richer reduces clothes then the richest ladies might not go to shop dresses ever. There was a time when the beauty of a lady was judged by the prettiness
of her face. But time has changed now. Not only guys but also girls judge a
lady by the attractiveness of her whole body, from her hairstyle to her stylish
sandals via many things.
Finally the viva started with the arrival of Mangal.
He looked here and there in hurry and passed some lude comments on the passing by girls who looked
prettier. I never understood why he always stared so badly on the bosom of any
lady. We walked downstairs to the canteen to have some bread pakoras.
After some time we came to know that the practical
file of the subject was very necessary to give viva. I cursed Gyan, who lived
in the street in which I have my rented house. I abused him for not telling me
that he had done file work and didn’t even bother to tell me. Whenever I go out
to have some fast food I just call him to share the food despite knowing that
he seldom shares the price of the food equally.
The problem was that the college is at a place where
you can see nothing except wheat fields all around the college like the college
is a small island in the middle of the green sea. I acted smart and moved into
the hall where the viva had just started.
‘Sir, can we give viva without file?’
‘Tell me your roll number. I want to circle your
roll number with red ink.’
‘Sir, please.’
‘Fuck off.’
Then I and Mangal ran downstairs and moved out of
the college. I roamed around the parking lot where a lot of expensive cars and
bikes were standing. Many of my classmates have cars and bikes but we didn’t
prefer to ask them just because the guy whose car I would have asked for has
become my enemy and the other guy who had a nice bike couldn’t give his bike to
us because Mangal had slipped under the truck with the bike when it was brand
new. And another guy couldn’t give us the bike because he always thinks I would screw
up his bike whenever I get to ride on it. Rest, we didn’t care who else had the
cars and bikes.
After roaming around I became friendly with a first
year student and request him to give his bike for five minutes when we spotted
him teaching his bike to a extra black guy who was probably the same year
student. He became ready and went out with Mangal.
After sometime we had the files in our hands but
empty. We asked some guys for their files and selected the one that was most
beautifully written. It was a girl’s file. We sat and wrote the file with our
maximum speed. After an hour the files were complete and looked like any guy
could have written the files better even when they would have been asked to
write for the rough use. But we’d the files now.
After pushing some guys away from our way we rushed
into the hall where viva was being taken. Our turns (according to our roll
numbers) were still to come but we preferred to finish the work off and leave
for our homes. It looked like a formality. And that’s the reason we’d never got
good percentage of marks in any semester despite scoring high in the external
papers.
‘Good morning sir,’
‘Good after noon sir.’ Mangal said and looked at me
as if I would have said something wrong there. I corrected ‘good after noon sir’ with
a smile on face that disappeared after showing my teeth to the viva taker.
Can you believe we dint even know the name of that
teacher? In fact, we didn’t know who else our teachers were and what our
subjects were. Many guys become the same.
We put our files on the table before us, facing the
teacher.
‘What are your roll numbers?’
Mangal told our roll numbers.
‘You tell yours only.’
‘Okay sir.’
The viva started with the question that we’ve been
hearing since the first viva we gave in our college; what have you studied?
We were all prepared with the answer.
‘Sir, we’d our NPCIL paper yesterday, so--.’
‘Okay, so how did you do in the paper?’
‘Very well sir.’
After fooling him for some time we reached at the
topic on which we’d to give our viva.
‘Sir, I’ve just heard that you’re asking current
affairs and not the questions from ES.’
Mangal kicked his left foot on my right foot. I
recognized he had told to me not to act smarter or foolish before the teacher.
Before I could have uttered anything the teacher had fired a question from the
current affairs.
‘What the capital of South Africa?’
‘Sir, Johannesburg.’
‘Cape town.’ Mangal corrected my answer. I realized
that I shouldn’t have spoken of the current affairs to the teacher.
‘Who is the president of South Africa?’
‘Sir, he is a coal black man. I can’t remember his
name but I had seen him when he was giving trophy to Yuvraj Singh after a match
there.’
‘You?’ the teacher pointed his bros towards Mangal
now.
‘Sir, pass.’
‘Okay,’
‘How many oceans are there on this earth?’
‘Seven.’
‘Name them.’
‘Okay.’
‘Is Tibet a country?’
‘No sir.’ Mangal gave the answer. Well, it was my
turn to act smart. I’d heard a lot about Tibet and Dalai Lama so I gave five
minute lecture on Tibet.
Similar questions were asked and the face of the
teacher became blood red when he saw my file then Mangal’s. He put a sign
before the names of the experiments in the index and then he circled our roll
numbers with red ink.
This
is how things go on in the modern engineering colleges and that’s the reason
our country fails to produce quality engineers. But still we feel proud to be
engineers!