this was my article for the magazine last yr.

oh ya, feel free to inform us about ur ideas for ( not opinions of ) the colg. magazine.
this was wot i doodled last time round. didnt put my name to it then. hope to make amends now.

A Room Without A View

There is a point of view
From where
My hobby horse looks up to some good.
Because there
Is a horse who wears blinkers
And when he takes them off, it’s just to show his face
Walks slowly and to win no race
And he looks up to no good.

My college means so much to me that even little things bother and hurt and rankle and I hope the concern is not mistaken for nitpicking viciousness.

Slow poison

Endless queues for registration - semester after semester - each new semester feels like a fresh year and yet this queue is so slow. Seems a pointless exercise to trek to the bank and to the photocopier to photocopy the fourth copy of the document, four copies of which are reputed to be required and three are provided.

How to pull a fast one

You desperately want to issue a book (the pursuit of which is expected to trigger much unhealthy competition) because your batchmates saw where you intended to hide it. Forgot to mention - it’s the beginning of the semester. That means your old ‘card’ won’t do and will have to be renewed. That means seeking the stamp of authority - rather the signatures of two authorities – after, of course, entrusting the temporary safety of the book to a trusted friend. In case the first authority is absent or very busy, the second authority won’t sign. Or will demand proof that you have actually registered for the semester – the student’s copy of your challan – whichever part of the universe it might presently be reposing in. Calls for an audibly sentimental attempt to garner sympathy votes from softer quarters. Mission Accomplished. Where’s the irony?

No Man’s Land

No Man’s Land indeed for family and friends of inmates of this place, if not female. Not so if not so - all you have to do (if not female) to (be able to) visit this sanctum is not be a family member or friend of any of the usual residents. You could be a gardener, the van-driver of the baker who gives us our daily ( okay, thrice a week) bread, the newspaper boy, the milkman, the guy who comes to switch on the motor at 6 every morning, a worker, a mason, an electrician, the computer - wale bhaiyya and either walk right in or at least explore the grounds. Or you could be any of the several teen-aged mess workers (who ogle openly –oh, blame it on the girls). At times, there seems to be not a single waking hour in this place when the population is one hundred percent female.
The ratio seems to skew a little more during exams! Sample this…
Scene: Aforementioned No Man’s Land
Time: (My) Second Semester Exams
Story: Enter a host of ungentlemanly characters to put up a Public Address system in the hostel. That those speakers never spoke thence is another story. But while the work was in progress, the workers weren’t too far behind – indeed thought nothing of peeping through our doors and we got a variety of renditions Bheege Honth Tere ( Vocal and Whistle Versions), right in the corridors.

Of course, festivals and important occasions happen to relax things a bit but only for a few students and dignitaries – never for family members – and anyway, that’s only the exception to the rule.

If there are to be rules, they should be logical and for everybody.

A. Student
Everysem
VNIT