It was the longest telegram that I have ever seen.
The news that it carried, however, was underwhelming. BITS, Pilani offered me a degree in science - not engineering - and gave me till end of July to register, failing which, the seat would be forfeited; the telegram warned me.
I threw the telegram to the ground for dramatic effect.
"Ishwara! Why are you torturing our family?" my mom exclaimed, looking skywards. We were a pretty filmy family.
I was not sure if Ishwara had anything to do with the contents of the telegram. The professors that had gone on a strike for higher wages, refusing to evaluate the IIT entrance papers, perhaps did. The ripple effect of their actions was felt on admissions to every college in India that year.
"So, is there a chance that there will be a second list?" my mom asked, with hope. I shook my head.
"Why don't you just go in person and see if you can sort this out?" Ramana mama, my maternal uncle, suggested. "There is nothing you cannot sort out in person. Plus, the registrar seems to be a Tamilian. Maybe he will help" he added, glancing at the name of a Mr Gopalan on the telegram.
Not a bad idea, I had thought. Maybe I could go in person and explain, to Mr Gopalan, my passion for engineering, show him the "engineering line" on my palm, chant a verse of Thiruppugazh, and get the mechanical engineering seat that I, so desperately wanted.
As I was leaving, Chechu mama, my mom's cousin, came by to our home.
"Yennada, where are you going?" he asked. Chechu mama was the quintessential comedian of the extended family. He was, for sure, searching for fodder for his joke of the day.
Chechu mama's once sharp wit had now blunted with age, and due to repetition. But the family didn't care; they wanted him to be funny.
"Pilani" I said. He puckered up his face, his forehead folded up in creases, intersecting with the lines of the vibhuti pattai that he had smeared on his forehead, as he rummaged through his brain for the repartee. He found it.
"Everybody is going to Pazhani" he remarked, referring to the temple town in Tamil Nadu, "you are going to Pilani aa? Be careful, lest they tonsure your head, like they do in Pazhani. Anyway, see if you get panchamritham, when you come back" he guffawed.
My mom was enraged, "this useless Chechu mama...him and his Iyer dry wit" she scolded him, after he left.
I went on a forty hour trip to New Delhi, crossing the Vindhyas for the first time in my life. It was quite an enjoyable train journey from what I remember. I even managed to strike up a conversation or two in English and broken Hindi. See, these chapati-eaters are not all that bad as you said, Ramana mama, I thought to myself.
The fervent anticipation of the meeting with the registrar of admissions was, of course, nagging me in the back of my mind. I rehearsed my two-minute pitch to him, several times, adroitly mixing the engineering passion with the right Tamil intonation.
I took a further four-hour bus trip through Haryana and Rajasthan to alight at a small village bus stop, and was spellbound by the spectacular campus that Birla had stood up in the middle of nowhere.
The purpose of my visit, itself, proved anti-climactic. Mr Gopalan met me for a minute, cut my pitch off midway, and said curtly "this is all you are going to get. Either register now for the M.Sc. or go back home."
"Must be a Malayali" my uncle surmised, when I would relate my experience with Mr Gopalan to him.
I wandered around the campus, aimlessly, for the entire day, thinking thoughts, fantasizing about hostels and classrooms, eating sparsely, and even visiting the campus temple.
Then, I caught a bus to Delhi, right on time to make the trip back to Madras, and then to Trichy to attend my REC counseling. The rest, as they (mostly my mom and my sister) say, is engineering history.
So, how was your first trip to whichever college you went to? Was it your final destination or did you take a couple of hops before you landed where you did?
Friends, if you are trying to comment on the blog, copy (CTRL+C, I meant) your comments before publishing / logging in...just in case the comments vanish without a trace. Anonymous commenting is an option now, but it is still not working on certain devices. Sorry!
"Ishwara! Why are you torturing our family?" my mom exclaimed, looking skywards. We were a pretty filmy family.
I was not sure if Ishwara had anything to do with the contents of the telegram. The professors that had gone on a strike for higher wages, refusing to evaluate the IIT entrance papers, perhaps did. The ripple effect of their actions was felt on admissions to every college in India that year.
"So, is there a chance that there will be a second list?" my mom asked, with hope. I shook my head.
"Why don't you just go in person and see if you can sort this out?" Ramana mama, my maternal uncle, suggested. "There is nothing you cannot sort out in person. Plus, the registrar seems to be a Tamilian. Maybe he will help" he added, glancing at the name of a Mr Gopalan on the telegram.
Not a bad idea, I had thought. Maybe I could go in person and explain, to Mr Gopalan, my passion for engineering, show him the "engineering line" on my palm, chant a verse of Thiruppugazh, and get the mechanical engineering seat that I, so desperately wanted.
"Yennada, where are you going?" he asked. Chechu mama was the quintessential comedian of the extended family. He was, for sure, searching for fodder for his joke of the day.
Chechu mama's once sharp wit had now blunted with age, and due to repetition. But the family didn't care; they wanted him to be funny.
"Pilani" I said. He puckered up his face, his forehead folded up in creases, intersecting with the lines of the vibhuti pattai that he had smeared on his forehead, as he rummaged through his brain for the repartee. He found it.
"Everybody is going to Pazhani" he remarked, referring to the temple town in Tamil Nadu, "you are going to Pilani aa? Be careful, lest they tonsure your head, like they do in Pazhani. Anyway, see if you get panchamritham, when you come back" he guffawed.
My mom was enraged, "this useless Chechu mama...him and his Iyer dry wit" she scolded him, after he left.
I went on a forty hour trip to New Delhi, crossing the Vindhyas for the first time in my life. It was quite an enjoyable train journey from what I remember. I even managed to strike up a conversation or two in English and broken Hindi. See, these chapati-eaters are not all that bad as you said, Ramana mama, I thought to myself.
The fervent anticipation of the meeting with the registrar of admissions was, of course, nagging me in the back of my mind. I rehearsed my two-minute pitch to him, several times, adroitly mixing the engineering passion with the right Tamil intonation.
I took a further four-hour bus trip through Haryana and Rajasthan to alight at a small village bus stop, and was spellbound by the spectacular campus that Birla had stood up in the middle of nowhere.
The purpose of my visit, itself, proved anti-climactic. Mr Gopalan met me for a minute, cut my pitch off midway, and said curtly "this is all you are going to get. Either register now for the M.Sc. or go back home."
"Must be a Malayali" my uncle surmised, when I would relate my experience with Mr Gopalan to him.
I wandered around the campus, aimlessly, for the entire day, thinking thoughts, fantasizing about hostels and classrooms, eating sparsely, and even visiting the campus temple.
Then, I caught a bus to Delhi, right on time to make the trip back to Madras, and then to Trichy to attend my REC counseling. The rest, as they (mostly my mom and my sister) say, is engineering history.
So, how was your first trip to whichever college you went to? Was it your final destination or did you take a couple of hops before you landed where you did?
Friends, if you are trying to comment on the blog, copy (CTRL+C, I meant) your comments before publishing / logging in...just in case the comments vanish without a trace. Anonymous commenting is an option now, but it is still not working on certain devices. Sorry!
Interested in reading my other blogs?
How about my ode to old Hindi film music? Which is here --> THE GOLDEN AGE OF HINDI FILM MUSIC.
The first episode is HERE.
Or my eulogy to one of the greatest playback singers of India? SP BALASUBRAHMANYAM.
