(8th March, 2012) Terminations

Its a disease. The black plague that hit Micamail. A termination is a silly, and sometimes cruel prank, played on a Mican careless enough to have left his micamail page open, and signed in. What’s a terminator (not to be confused with time travelling robots) to do? What eventually ensues is a mail sent to the batch (both batches and CCC if the terminator is feeling adventurous and confident) that is bound to embarrass the owner of the fallen email id.

The length and content of the termination depends on:

a)      The duration for which the concerned laptop is left unguarded

b)      The creative inclinations of the terminator

Sometimes a long, and well crafted termination finds its way to our mailboxes, as in the case of Abhishek Shandilya’s palmistry one not so long ago. In other cases, just a subject line termination would suffice- like the EOI for the Govt. Of Bangladesh termination of Apan Singhal. While most terminations are harmless, some can be extremely cruel- like the ones announcing a deadline extension 5 minutes before a submission, when there isn’t one. The implications of such a termination can be horrifying. The terminatee is then subject to some 150 phone calls in the duration of those 5 minutes and is clueless about what’s going on because he/she was off submitting the assignment when the crime was perpetrated on his/her mailbox! Trust me, it has happened to me!

But what’s peculiar about terminations is that, unlike other crimes (if I may be so harsh), the terminatee ends up apologising to the community at large, and not the terminator. Every termination is followed by a brief, yet apologetic mail on behalf of the victim saying ‘terminated’. The terminator, however, if found, is let off scott free, to roam the hostels and classrooms to find more unattended laptops.

There are people like me, who have been terminated just a couple of times in the last two years. I suppose most people average about 8-10 times. But then, there are the terminally terminated like Aditya Singh and others- who are the constant targets of these terminators. There are days when micamail is just full of terminations. They are an integral and important part of spam.

While some are entertaining and others are mostly dumb, terminations are a special, fun part of micamail. I only hope that when we move on from here, to our workplaces, at home, and in the real world at large, we are able to see someone’s signed in, unattended laptop and LEAVE IT ALONE!

(5th March, 2012) Zen and the Art of Powerpoint Presentations

Let’s face it. Powerpoint is our life. From now, for about the next 30 odd years (or until they invent a better alternative), we’ll be making powerpoint presentations. But today, I made my last one (hopefully!) for MICA. The last assignment. The dream.

But what was a carefully thought out process in pre-MICA days, sometimes needing a rehearsal maybe, or definitely a lot of deliberation- is something that we now do quicker than you can say ‘ppt’. Whenever an assignment is announced, the immediate question is- word doc or ppt? Talking in windows extensions terms is the burden our generation will carry forever. Hearts are filled with joy, when its a ppt and not a word doc. That just means less words no?

The process of the ppt begins, about an hour (on a good day) before the actual presentation, with four glorious words- Click to add title. Grand marketing plans are made, research problems are solves and the wisdom of the world is pronounced- with bullet points! I bet any Mican, anywhere, is capable of making and presenting a ppt on just about ANY topic, in about two and a half minutes. Has slide, can present. This seems to have inspired a very popular and immensely entertaining Litcomm event as well.

I doubt there is a Mican in this world, who at least once in his or her life, hasn’t completely ad-libbed an entire presentation. It is that immensely glorious confidence, and sense of mystery that drowns your heart, when you press that à key, without the slightest clue on what is about to appear on the next slide. Beaming with all that confidence, you register the words on the ppt for about half a second and go on to enthral the audience (and sometimes the unsuspecting professor) with your brilliance. The feeling is wonderful.

Not so long ago, I was quite amazed at Apoorva’s talent at making a very nice (and eventually appreciated) presentation. Starting out with some 5 odd paltry, content-less slides, she fashioned a presentation is the 15 minutes that the group before ours went before the class to talk. When all else failed, google came to the rescue. Group members sitting in various corners of the class sent in their two bits through micamail chat and in minutes, we dazzled the audience. At the risk of slight exaggeration, the process is almost as dramatic every time, and Micans never fail to disappoint.

Powerpoint presentations are our sixth sense. They are our bread and butter (and a little jam). Yes, we need to face it, powerpoint, is our life.

(4th March, 2012) Micamail

I wonder sometimes how MICA functioned before there was micamail. You can imagine MICA without any other single piece of infrastructure, except micamail. Even as you read this, many will have micamail open on the other tab. Its not that you use it all the time, but it’s reassuring to know it’s there, no?

Every once in a while, I refresh the page. Some permanent facets of the page invariably are- a random lost and found article, someone calling out for ‘Footy at 5’ and almost definitely, an input from Ashok Chauhan declaring the interest the Indian print media takes in the happenings on our campus.

I don’t open any of them. They are part of the 8,120 unread mails that are lying in my inbox right now. But I also don’t delete them. If you strung together every email sent from the time you fist accessed that account (after a particularly trying session with the IT guys), till date, you could find an interesting story to tell. Micamail is a kind of a ‘sutradhar’, if you will, of everything that happens here. The fights people had, the jokes they cracked, the assignments they auctioned for Shikari Chicken (read: Lakshmi & Rana) and the general mundane events that happened all through the day. I doubt there is any PGP1 batch in history, at least about 50% of which haven’t lost their umbrellas in the first term and dutifully reported it on micamail.

I also doubt there are too many people out there who haven’t been terminated. While that particular micamail activity is the subject for another blogpost, micamail for PGP17 spawned the very popular SISA awards (Annual Summer Internship SPAM Awards). While that brings many, many memories of the boredom of those initial internship days, it is a very grand celebration of micamail and how it enriches (!) our lives.

I opened the spam (and, of course, about half a dozen important mails) to read intense micamail discussions interrupted by Vamsi and Divyanshu’s private conversations. Then there was the time of ‘Babloooooooooo’ which began every internship week (for us as well as Ashok Chauhan, who most definitely must have been very puzzled!). And of course, there was TD, adding her two bits to the spam. There were also those mails that complaining about the large number of (unnecessary) assignments- that were inadvertently sent to the concerned faculty! This also led to the inclusion of a mandatory line adopted by all CoCos while sending mails-“Please note: This mail has also been marked to ‘insert Prof. Name’ and his/her RA”.

Very soon, our group id- pgp2@micamail.in, will be lost. It will be passed on through generations of micans, just like it was handed down to us. But rest assured, the spamming will continue. Umbrellas will continue to be lost, and deadlines will continue to be extended. And legend has it, that long after we leave this campus, and get busy with the nitty-gritties of the real world, we will return- about a year later, with the words- “Tax return file kiya kya?”.

(3rd March, 2012) Deadline Extension

‘Deadline Extension’ are the words that make me refresh my micamail page every 5 minutes before a frantic last-minute submission. That one email from the CoCo is like a gift of life to those who started working on the EOD submission at about 8:30pm.

The deadline- usually an insignificant date is announced about a month before when the professor gives the assignment. It is a strategically chosen date (quite understandably by class consesnsus) so that it doesn’t fall on any day already claimed by Placecomm, MICANVAS, Sankalp, SCAM, Culcomm, MLS, MCR, Litcomm…well, you get the picture. It would also be preferable if it weren’t anyone’s (or their respective love interest’s birthday) on that day. But this date however, has as little influence on the Mican life….well, up until 48 hours before. That is when the CoCo or professor (depending on the severity of the situation) hits the panic button. This is when the CoCo is then to make all attempts to push the deadline.

The pushing of the deadline is a very complex process. While I have personally never had to do it, the CoCo (and in the case of the dissertation, MCSA) that successfully pushes the deadline to a more acceptable date go down in history as some of the most successful Micans of the batch.

The plea for the deadline extension is presented alongside many, sincere and earnest (sounding) reasons. But usually, the reason for actually pushing the deadline may be:

>>There is an even bigger assignment due on the same/previous/next day (which will also be postponed)

>>There is/was a party

>> No one remembered the assignment till like just now!

>> It was holi and we had too much bhang.

>> Everyone is holidaying in Diu (in case of group submissions)

>> We all thought it was EOD, but it was actually ‘Hard Copy to Chintan Shah at 5pm’

>> The library was shut

Ok, the last one is fake, but while the reasons seem bizarre and almost amusing, their legitimacy will not be apparent to those that have never been to MICA. The ‘first deadline’ is a phrase coined for us. It is merely a humbly suggested date when the professor would be pleased to see your submission. It is by no means binding. The students know it, the professor knows it. Probably Chintan Shah also knows it. The MICA deadline will always stand as a symbol for those many, many hours spent refreshing micamail, and whiling away time, till the CoCo brings us and our assignments, the glorious gift of time.

(2nd March, 2012) Chhota

Chhota. That one small (quite literally) word that could describe my whole time here at MICA- every midnight conversation, every steaming cup of chai (that RK would most definitely call ‘kadak aur meethi’), those tyre swings.

In fact, in my head, the image of Chhota will always be that one Rana made in PGP1. That picture has been used and overused so many times, that I don’t even need to link it into this post. Oh what the hell, you’re gonna google it anyway! Here you go!

This morning every one walked up to Chhota to see that glorious sight- a refrigerator filled with cold drinks, the shelf full of chips and biscuits and of course, the one, most coveted, special snack- Maggi. I wolfed down one at about 11am this morning (don’t judge me!) and thought of all those things this place means to us. It is the place so many people shot to fame- an alumni directory of the who’s who of MICA’s gastronomic geniuses. The Imran of the Sandwich, the Anish of the Paratha, the Manvi of the rice- go down in history as the most popular Micans of all time.

But the list doesn’t end there. The names of the dishes of Chhota tell the tale of what so many people experienced there- sitting on those benches, day and night, sharing stories and lives between cigarette puffs and sips of Nimbu Paani. Chaar Palaash, the Crafting, the Ghosal Thali- every one of  them is one tasty story waiting to be told. It doesn’t matter that the ‘Italian’ (as it is fondly called) has absolutely nothing to do with Italy. Neither does the Manchurian hail from China. All that mattered was that at 2am, when we walked up to Chhota, Kishorbhai always had something ready.

I’ve fought with Lakshmi over the one perfectly aligned tube (that would retire to its crooked ways in a day or so), I’ve spend many solitary afternoons there with just the chai. I have screamed over the counter when the mess made South Indian (ugh!).

Chhota is so much more than just a culinary alternative on campus. It is the stuff a Mican is made of. The fact that it becomes a big part of culturalization is no coincidence. Being the only official smoking area on campus, you can find Matthew here more than in his office! And it always, always has Nimbu Pani.

(1st March, 2012) A Walk to Remember

I dedicate this post to whose birthday happened to fall on this day- Neha Kulkarni. Neha is one of the people who make MICA what it is for me. She is probably the most understatedly awesome person I have ever met. I know the looks I’ll get when she reads this, but I know I’ll miss her like hell! I will avoid going on and on about her though (for fear of borrowing too much from that dreaded thing called the testimonial) but her birthday was definitely a good start to the end of our days at MICA.

But this post is also a dedication to the one MICA phenomenon that is associated with a lot of people (including Neha)- the walk. The MICA walk is many things. It is an indicator of relationships to be for, it is a gossip session in itself for others, it is a desperate, intermittent, and mostly unsuccessful attempt by some others to lose weight.

A very wise soul once said, that Facebook should have a relationship status exclusively for MICA called ‘is taking walks with’. The walk- a simple act of traversing the path from the cricket ground, past Chhota, around the football field, through the parking lot, all the way till Nescafe and back- has been the cause and location of many friendships that erupted in discreet corners of Palaash, Parijat and Silver Oak. It is also the cause of many a love that bloomed on campus (and sometimes met an early demise) and also of many, many discussions of everything under the sun. In the same breath, we talked about placement woes and whether they’ll make biryani in the mess tonight. It was where we fought over what-letter-of-the-alphabet school MICA is.

The walk in MICA, for whatever it means to all of us, will always be a special memory. We’ll remember those precise moments when we discovered each other and (for want of a better cliché), ourselves.

Reasons I can never forget an Nature Club Camp

1. The highest peak, the longest walk, the toughest climb, seems completely doable when the NC junta is around

2. No matter what, we always sing!

3. You see a place you’ve never seen before, talk to people you’ve never known, do thing’s you’ve never imagined, and come back with more stories than you can keep count of!

4. The C.O.M. (If you don’t know what that stands for, go for a camp!!!!)

5. On the first camp, the people I knew were 0. So what?

6. There’s never a dull moment! Even when you really really wishing there would be!

7. You’ll see birds you can never remember the names of (& hence get whacked )

8. You’ll possible even see an animal you will never forget for the rest of your life. In my case this was a tiger…

9. After a tiring day, trekking in some beautiful forest in the middle of nowhere, you sleep better than you would, any other day, any other time….

10. And, somewhere, on the banks of a distant river somewhere, or maybe sitting on a hill, overlooking the forest, you find yourself…
I know I did….

Another FYBMM…

Another day will dawn and Wilson College will throw its gates open.

ID-cards in their hands, dreams in their eyes and not a clue in their head, they’ll step in.

Another FYBMM will embark on their journey just like we did.

They’ll have that first lecture with Sudhakar Sir again and they’ll be scared of him…

They’ll make those quick friendships, those sudden ‘love’ affairs, started by some teasing…

They’ll spend rainy afternoons by the beach and of course,

Click those pictures…

They’ll have fun through their first Polaris, the ones in Security…the ones in 104…

They’ll discover themselves as they discover projects

The first night up before Suddhu’s (that’s what they’ll learn to call him) submission

It won’t help really. They’ll come five minutes after 7:30…the train was late of course!

Then they’ll spend the next two days getting him to accept the project.

Phone bills will shoot up, hours spent at home will plummet.

Parents will worry, wardens will warn and they’ll be at this one’s place…chilling…

The fights will happen too, big ones, small ones, i-can’t-do-another-project-with-him ones…

The breakups will happen too.

Bitter and frivolous…and we’ll be friends again

They’ll be divided and united…and maybe someday, they’ll boycott an exam of their own…

All this, before the first I.V.

Another FYBMM will embark on their journey just like we did.

I don’t know if this is their story or ours…

But it sure is one helluva story, isn’t it?