Sometimes I think...

Length, Mass and Time

Three years hence and one to go,

Cracked my brains to fun and fear.

Turned all stones to dredge up first

What made me an En-gi-neer?

Pepsin-Pencil –Penny-Perk,

Something sooner seldom dear.

Twenty four to sit and count

“Time” made me an En-gi-neer.

Scoff n scout and scorch n scotch

Bangalored or places near.

Polam rright! I’ve miles to go.

“Length” made me an En-gi-neer.

Logic –Lobby-Lolly-Loon,

Life has turned a greasy gear.

Volumes big and Down-to-Earth

“Mass” made me an Engineer.

 Gowtham
Soon to B.E

O brother! Tell me why…

O brother! Why do we fight?

Under the vast welkin blue.

O brother! Why do we part?

The warmth within, Our igloo.

O brother! Why do we cry?

O’er her scales up-and-down.

O brother! Why do we smile?

The common man, a cheated clown!

O brother! Why do we slay?

Half a note has got no worth.

O brother! Why do we shy?

X or Y – is all one birth.

O brother! Why do you mute?

It’s flout fact that all bleed red.

O brother! Why do you numb?

Mom sent me to share this bread.

Gowtham

Indian

Fine it’s 9.10. I’ll have to leave. Bye.

Oh my goodness. Coimbatore’s decibel levels are soaring high. The vehicles. The machines. The people. Gosh! My ears are bleeding.

Kabhi kabhi Aditi Zindagi… And my music express yelling!

God! If not pin-drop silence at least ton-drop silence???

A swift race with the sun on Thadagam road to enter Lawley road gate was hell today and my acoustic system needed some soothing, desperately. Down the gallery was Pudhu Vellai mazhai from Roja and “Play”. The cool breeze from the agri fields carried me floating and the impromptu of birds accompanied me to the post office in seconds past the new building that reflected my changed mood in its blue and green glass panes.

In around next 10 quick steps was standing a sturdy-stout and bulky frame with his black sling bag on his ever horizontal shoulders that hinged two arms which waved all 10 tuning fingers to resonate a frequency and paint the corridor air with the rhythm of engineering. That’s enough for you to guess he’s from Civil.

Hai Jeevan! ( That’s his name!)

Hey Dude! This is my most faaavourite song.

Indeed, your elation!

So you have lab today?

Friday – Instrumentation Lab – a noisy experiment today. Phew!

Noise? When you can enjoy ARR, you must (enjoy) that too… for you are an Engiii.

Still…

Thus began our colloquy for the day.

“I’m more interested in Sounds than music”

Sound in the sense? Even the ****ing honking outside?

Yes. Every single vibration in nature has music in it. Be it a piano, I want to bring out the WOW sound out. In the early 90’s it was all hardware and orchestra but now it is Sound Engineers and Programming. There are very few composers and a huge lot of Sound Programmers as such.

Glad to meet you Mr. Civil cum Sound Engineer.

Yes, Astound studio- my dream is now a reality gift from dad. The only fact which he enquired me was not the budget but the balance – Balance between Academics and Passion. I gave him an equation and he gave me my treasured possession. Mom is very supportive on her part and my first music is all ready for release in a few days (Woo!). And I’m stupidly Little-bit-too excited. *laughs* But I don’t want to make music a business, a money minded sale. My Passion is way far off from Profession. Both should never intersect me at the crossroads. One second… ( his phone)

Hello Daddy. Nenu college ochi cherasnanu . Bojnaniku intiku vasthanu… Bye.

Dad actually could not afford a quality-or-class instrument then. So I managed with a basic model. But dad was struggling to fulfil the ‘otherwise-no’ yes which he had promised to this adamant son of his. The best he could do was to put me into a class which offered training in the basis and the prompt pick-up-and-drop which he never forgets even today when my vehicle rests in the shed. The classes were so very jam-packed with schooling that I could make it to only a twenty classes, as far as my memory is good enough.

So that means the Mozart of R.S.Puram was in making…

Yea. My first touch was C major scale, a thumb on the C key, as simple as that. Then as classes could not be regular, rather I could not be regular; I solely believed in and repeated cassettes. My music collection today is in boastful GB’s. Eleventh and Twelfth I was put in a hostel. I headed the music troupe and I still remember the day when I just read out a poem written by my friend and it got programmed into a song in my lips and stored in my brain. I had my first composition then and there and MINE for once and for all.

So finally a musician was baked with the cake!!!

Not that easy Gowtham. The same person who could not satisfy my music appetite then, Saved for me – every single drop, to get me my workplace a proud Roland Juno Di. As I didin’t have much of training , it was actually Google-guru who helped me learn the ragas. And a rare Santoor player from Coimbatore. (I) Don’t remember his name exactly but inspired me with that instrument. On the Playback side it is Hariharan and Vijay Prakash, Of course.

Any kind of favourite list in your player?

Vennira iravugal from Paesu. Not many know this, but it is one in my top list. Speaking about songs it is a different mood for each day. Sad – Standing in motion (by) Yaani or excited PoC tune. Different moods all over. ARR, my God yes but his are still behind Hans Zimmer’s evergreens. Relaxation – I must say, is what I seek in music.

So does that include your special dedication for someone very special?

Music and Love are two palms. And you know what is clap- again a sound. My twelfth standard monsoon days in Pondicherry constantly rewind whenever I get to listen Vaaranam Aayiram rom-tunes. Yes, songs are now in the process of getting special for someone. *blush*

You told her? You confessed?

Yes. And you?

Double No :( Not sure of a return yes.*

(*Refers to two different girls. Our birthdays coincide, definitely not our choices.)

Well getting back, So do you relate colour to music?

Yes. Music also is about believing in what many refuse to be believing in. So it is a yes.

Highly impossible. I’m sincere to myself. And I never record my songs it’s all in my memory. So there is no chance of the P word.

Oh nice. Do you believe in ghosts?

Fine. Now imagine a case of Plagiarism filed on your tune…

I haven’t put in much of research into it. Again colours are moods, mood is music. Nice question by the way.

Hey P.C. assignment mudichitiya? How many pages? ( To one of his class mates)

Coming back to GCT from early morning dream, I realized I had a watch to look at…

Fine it’s 9.10. I’ll have to leave. Bye.

Bye Dude.

Wonderful personality. Proud I am his friend. I said to myself.

The next eight hours were for my ears. I enjoyed the sound of the broom, the tap of my shoe, the drag of corridor, the flipping of pages, the howl of the wind, the rhythm of the flush, the filling of my bottle, the payal of my hunt, and finally the music of the Blower in the lab which was otherwise-noise but today- music.

Amma intlo unnara? Nenu oka singerni kalsesi 6 o’clock intiki vasthanu.

This voice? I turned back. There he was ready to start on his bike.

Hey Jeevan. Home?

Yes. Coming?

Lawley Road please.

And for his ever fast ride down a kilometre stretch (which had my cap’s last flight few months back) he questioned me at the bus stop…

Do you think I’m unique?

In the sense?

You now know something about me at this time when I’m a bit preoccupied to tell about me.

You’ll have your answer not from me… 1c.Bye.

He had the answer for both HE and ME in the sling bag whish he wore. It read Success.

My Success that Persona post 2 is ready.

And his Success??? Left to you to judge.

Happy Friendship Day.

Friend for-long

Gowtham 

THE HEART THAT BLED OIL

July 2012

GCT workshops

Now having decided to sacrifice rest my life into the churning clock (again gears in there), I failed to accept that there is beauty in the junk that stands still. One fine day waiting for my bonafide to be signed I heard someone speak in the workshop. But it was not any man who spoke it was a kind of vibration which attracted me magnetically to stick my pinna to the heart that bled oil…

I stood on the silver sands,

Will the water paw my feet?

It must not – said a voice in me.

You are made of sickly sheet!

I walked on the good-will green,

Will butterflies kiss my hand?

They might not – said that voice in me.

Will they? In your lumber land.

I ran to the withered woods,

Will my hair waltz with the breeze?

It better not – said the voice in me.

Your life stands at final freeze.

I impugned back to that voice,

Have I been of so no use?

Not your guilt – said the voice in me.

Man is fickle, Changes profuse.

I had discovered the beautiful land of machines. It’s right that mechies say, MACHINES have hearts.

Mechanically touched

Gowtham

SIR

Hello people:) Back after a long sabbatical... now this post is reblogged from nervesandwires as we had to update that blog and I thought Being Me could keep the post alive till I exhaust my pulse or my blog gets hacked and subsequently deleted by someone:)

2 July 2012

Science Block, GCT

Almost a year having hurried in this corridor with the ‘fresher’ tag .The stairs that bore my thumps all day long now play the music for my entry into the new academic year. Every brick of it welcoming you with an oxymoron of old-freshness and I rudder a sharp right to the Language Lab…  

“May I come in Sir?”

“Come in Gowtham.”

A smiling face rose behind the monitor top, a personality that every fresher is mistaken for a student in the college, but he is our own  personification of a ‘friend-and-guide’ tag A.V. Sir.

“Sir I need you to spare some time for us.”

“Sure Gowtham” ( Playing with his fingers on the Qwerty)

“Sir, I want to shoot a Proust Questionnaire on you Sir.”

“Me?”

“Yes Sir! Please…”

“Well, Let’s Get started then.”

…. And thus started our first post for PERSONA  that you are eager to read on!!!

Mr.J.Anbazhagan Vijay

Asst. Professor of English and Student’s Club Co-ordinator

1. What is your idea of happiness?

Lonliness. It makes me pensive. To have an introspective journey free from anxiety and pressure of all time. I think happiness cannot be expressed when it is obvious to be expressed.

2.What is your greatest fear?

A wild imagination of what if my mom goes away once for all from the earthly life.oooooooz…

3.Which historical figure do you most identify with?

Napolean for his conviction, Bharathi and Kannadasn for their spontaneous poetic overflow and the list goes on.

4.Which living figure do you most admire?

Kiran Bedi, K.J.Jesudos, Ilayaraja, my teachers like Prof.Benet, and obviously my mom.

5.What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?

Travelling in a comfort zone always. I never try to experiment anything I’m not comfortable with.

6.What is the trait you deplore in others?

Whenever I find a duality in a person which affects the trust I have on him/her.

7.What do you consider the most overrated virtue?

When professional ethics conflict with the profession or professionals. A good example is that a doctor failing to save the life of his patient on the basis of money. (Sir) No! It happens.

8.On what occasion do you lie?

Many. When Naragasuran is on the stage, I have to eulogise him.

9.What do you dislike most about your appearance?

I haven’t ever thought of it.

10.Which living person do you most despise?

No. Not personally. But people after proclaiming that they have attained celibacy, still enjoying the most luxurious life in the disguise of religion, MUST BE sentenced to death.

11.Which words or phrase do you most overuse?

Men may come and men may go,

But I go on forever.

12.What is your greatest regret?

Lavishness.

13.What or who is your greatest love of your life?

Eating – hot home made variety rice with tomato rasam and a vegetable poriyal . And Sowmiha, my younger daughter surprisingly my new world.

14. When and where were you the happiest?

When I took to teaching. It is a different world altogether – being with the children of varied interests, attitude. It is my LIFE.

15.What is your present state of mind?

Happy – Busy, as I am always.

16.What is your favourite motto?

Life is to be lived.

17. What is your greatest extravagance?

Spending on wardrobe and food (with family).

18.What is your favourite journey?

Any journey which takes me to the hills (any).

19.Who is your favourite painter?

Ravi Varman, Hussain. All  time favourites.

20.How would you like to die?

Oh! Awful… No idea. But I wish no one should bemoan about my death.

“Thank you so much Sir.”

“Will that help in your blog?”

“Sir ! (Bows)”

Twenty minutes uninterrupted except for the two pleasing tones of his mobile, it was an experience of having known more about a person to whom everybody connects so easily. Was it the stream of words carried by emotions or the spark in his spectacled eye? That made me sit mesmerized throughout the conversation.

PROUD

I feel so proud today. A part of my article popped up in Voice your Views section of The Hindu Metroplus (page 4) dated 30.06.2012. Though the paper could find a tiny corner for my words, I'm Mr.Proud today for my name is on the newspaper thankfully not in any 420 case:)

http://www.thehindu.com/todays-paper/tp-features/tp-metroplus/article3586620.ece

Well here is a total description of what i could fit within 94 words...

Are Coimbatoreans Proud of their heritage structures?

Well, I presume that more than the ‘Engineering’ cliché, Coimbatore is no less in its antiquity – be it the Schools, the Station, the Temples or the Town Hall bricks that have been speaking to every soul in the city for generations. Where else can one find a symbiosis of the committed concrete and the nature’s green?

It’s a loud-proud that I am one of the very few who get to breathe in the corridors of the 1950 GCT heritage where the aroma of belongingness lingers intact, even today!

Realize… Recreate… Relish…

R.Gowtham

Government College of Technology

Monsoon is on its way

Hi... Rather laaaate hai... Sorry for the fortnight's delay. Was a bit unorganised , holidays anyway... It was my Dongle playing the curiosity game or sometimes my ever-long dreams. Hope it's not that late :p. This one is a special  post as far as my  summer holidays till last year. Come May and we  were all packed up for the Queen of Hills. And though I didn't have much a chance of the tea from there this year, I decided to write this from my couch and a cup of bru at home looking at the dark clouds, their way bound to those beautiful ranges...  Only God and the meteoro people now when it's actually gonna be cats-and-dogs here.

It's Raining!!! It's Pouring....

The breeze – chill and tingling, just arrived carries the fresh tempting aroma of the newly baked land under the scorchers’ red hot ball in the sky cavorting a stamina hide-and-seek game with the fuzzy sunflowers that smile and frown rearranging their yellow natural pollen. And the birds have started renovating their cozy nests and storing fresh pop-worms for their ever-enthu, ever hungry li’l birdies inside, opening their beaks in excitement, screeching for the permission to catch the thousand feathers of glossy attractive-green-blue dance to the tune of the nightingales clarinet and the cacophony of the frogs. A million spectators settle after a hustle of conversations on the brown moist couches and flutter their protective coats to bask in all the warmth the air-molecules could offer on sale. The green leaves and the red polka dotted mushrooms are all set to rediscover their profits in shelter-business for the season and make it happen for the ladybirds on their honeymoon. The caterpillars have shut their doors for a deep closed slumber.

The stage is set, the crowd is perked, without much ado… LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTION

Thunder throttles the Earth, accompanied by the violin of the branches rubbing each other. The hearts bounce beyond vaults and here it is a tiny – oval – ellipsoidal drop fall on the long thirsty ground and all the other sparkles follow pursuit rejuvenating every cell in the Eco, intensifying the spirit and beat of life.

Monsoon is on it's way...

The brisk breeze,

Whistle - sizzle - say

Monsoon is on it's way.

The clogged clouds,

Busy - fuzzy - fey

Monsoon is on it's way.

The tall trees,

Quiver - shiver - sway

Monsoon is on it's way.

The chirpy children,

Yippee - happy - hay

Monsoon is on it's way. 

For the next 30 minutes, become one with the nature mesmerized in the rhythm of the art. Every single breath on land jumps to elation on the advent of a downpour. Watching the droplets dance in the puddle and the constant gush of wind which brings in a spray of freshness on you. It’s worth a million dollar experience!!!

Imagine a small brown stand, a single stout table, two stunted bamboo stools, a romantic red rose in the shoot vase, and only you and she… Cusped in the chill of the wind and the warmth of your relationship. The frequent friction of your wet eye lashes with hers and only a thin strand of her hair balancing a trickling droplet across your cheeks. You forget everything and lend your ears only to the bubbles plop. I bet no one can read this only once!

Hellooo… If your dreams are over, get back… As I was describing, why empty your pockets on the artificial lights and the bonsai decos when you have such a romantic gift by nature???

Small children dancing drenched and the paper boats in the gutters, carefully sailing along to avoid a Titanic tragedy, the ladies having kept their metal pails to add to the tune of nature’s band, the open umbrellas and the car wipers waving to each other and the lazy chaps happy with their Mexican-Car wash and the last drop off the mayflower petal on the shallow below my eyes… Nature arrests me into all feelings to write this post for my readers.

Waiting for the rainbow
Gowtham

P.S. : Meanwhile, The Literary and Debating Society of my college, of which I too am a small part, is ready with it's blog nervesandwires as a step ahead to beat the boredom of T-school these days... So it's a humble invite from Being Me to taste the spirit of freshness. Happy reading!!!

On a Road called LIFE

The newspapers yelled the petrol price hike which kindled not the vehicle engine but multifarious throngs fulminating day in and day out facing upto the central government manifestos which are so unpredictable than the weather outside. Being a mere ‘Common Man’, I located myself on a national highway. I cursed the mankind for finding an alternate egotistic modus operandi cashing in on the nature and drawing a parallel in the polluted winds (that would soon start fining people for not allowing the exhaust into their pulmonary tract) that slapped me hard forgetting behind a black oily patch of dirt all over my face . Sitting in a rickety bus numbered 1c and the huge amount I paid for the 1’’ x 2’’ bit of coloured paper, I sat gazing at the shining head of a man in front, to open up my thoughts for this post to follow…

On the first day, God laid the roads. On the second day He painted the lanes and put up the barricades and on the third day He let his so called “intelligent-creations” play.

#STAGE I

Hail on the road, the new driver, with hallucinations outnumbering the signals on the road. He is blessed with the never-ending green for all his elders to back, who know what is good for him. He solely accelerates and never pauses for anything ahead. Everything is been overseen by the words of wisdom and overdose of oil, evident from the bright ‘L’ on the rear and the front. He has now learnt how to move straight take a simple left and to halt when he guesses danger.

#STAGE II

Our very own new driver is now ready on his home rule on road. The road barricades a few curbs for him but he knows how to get the ways cleared by honking all around. This side is full of fantasies and cajolery, that the traffic puts him on an assay to quiz his curiosity to be cognizant of the traffic decree at the potential max and prove his ace in speeding on the tar. Yet he is run in secret by some hounding that makes certain he is back home safe.

#STAGE III

The now evolved driver is on full go to experiment with everything he finds being veiled away from the main course with onuses heaping behind. His nosiness being racing to discover the undiscovered and carry the responsibilities he has to, as a fellow road user. Then, it is here he he’s put into mega-choices. Two roads diverged in the tarmac, be one traveler long he stalled to choose the path less treaded by. ( courtesy: Robert Frost altered!)  

  

#STAGE IV

Now, it’s epoch for the burning passion to do the wheelie and the spin-skids. But watch out!!! the roads are slippery. He’s been thinking the road is totally free, but unaware that the pedestrians and fellow speeders influence his ride more than his clutch or the break. He falls prey to the mirage ahead and has attempted a jolly hitchhiking movement with the hazard lights ON, which he’ll repent for the days to come in solitude. Jumping the reds and impatient on the green, sometimes sizzled has urged him to carry a spare.

#STAGE V

Having had the experience and coordination perfected over the years, he is now totally poised to face the other hemisphere of the roads, where the roads have changed and the directions too. It’s totally a mess to drive smooth with bumps and unguarded railway crossings. He better fasten his seat belts to avoid any fatal accidents waiting on the road ahead. He has some quick decisions to make - in the red for a fruitful green at the cross roads.

#STAGE VI

Gone are those days of speeding. It’s now a slow tread along the countryside. With many a milestones crossed, and many a bunks paused, driving has now come to shear minimalist. In Shelley’s word, If winter comes, Can spring be far behind? It’s now time to watch to Gen-X do the tricks and he to sit behind and curse his experiences long foreseen. Finally, Destination reached.

“GCT Erangiko”… I get down with the triumph of a racer on the stand. “All the world’s a road”…

STOP… LOOK… GO…

On the track

Gowtham

My Ten - COLLEGE

Two years into college life… so much has been accomplished ( in the world outside not in the college though)… these two years have tempted me so much that I must list out  ten elements here ( in no particular order) that have taught me 10¹⁰⁰ feelings in no time.

#1 SIRIPOLOGY - SMILE

Eeeeeeeeeeeee! ;) Yes, something like that but better let only the 14 muscles get to work with a zipped curve (esp. the girls if you are actually reading this alongside the facebook tab less toggled!!!) if you can’t bet much on your toothpaste. This acts as a great ignition ON to drive someone crazy if you are worth it. There are a well stated set of rules you must follow to engineer ( Gavin, hope you’re reading) a perfect smile at the perfect situation or else keep the doc ready and frown at a bash. Don’t blame me for the smile that will end up ringing in your ears for an extra MILE. CAUTION: “Smiling to EVERONE, EVERYTIME and everywhere can be fatal!”I quote (as no else has yet claimed it!). I once smiled at a ‘somewhere-seen-you’ face which happened to be my external examiner on that day!!! Wt_.Now stop smiling!

#2 SELF-CHATTER- LECTURE

                Four hours a day, sometimes dragged to a tiring seven!!!:@ When a few on the first bench admire the person speaking continuosly to HIMSELF to deliver something technical with feelings but sorry! Totally-out-of-track boggies, at the receiving end. For a few others at the back, the free advice is not from the pitiable Homo sapien on stage but from an intermediate messenger of his/her ANJALAE/ Mr. RIGHT ( Word courtesy: Nivi… who’s still on the hunt for him), yes the mamas and mami’s as I term them. BEEP… yes check! attend the new message on your phone it is 99.9% from this gang of people. Oh my true predictions!!! Fine, get back. Some enjoy these ‘who-the-****-cares‘ hours by lavishly slashing fruits and coconuts (Oops!! Check out for the bombs! ) or steal away an idol from the temple and run like Bolt. ( Happens to be my friend’s sis’s favourite.)other choices??? Yes here you are- snoring, drooping, chatting, dreaming, EAVESDROPPING, chewing…. Enough!!! Everything but not ‘Listening’ to the person trying to master the art of bowling at the stumps but it’s all a Bouncer. I only have actor Vivek’s famous line… “Yaarume illathe kadaile… yes yes the same. I can mimic only the new ladies in kollywood with my Tamil. :p

#3 BURP!!!! - CANTEEN

                The menu matters a ____. It is the SPONSOR who matters and that too only till ‘Gandhiji’ is safely delivered from his pocket to the cash counter. And YOU be the scapegoat sponsor for the day, watch out!!! The next order is ready on the table with you still at the counter calculating how to buy the teddy for her or the wallet for him (for GCTians-Baba stores… obviously). You are left with only your mouth wide open and the exit shut… I mean that of the canteen! If you missed someone not licking the loose particles of the samosa crust left over his plate to make the best of the 3 bucks spent, then sorry you aren’t in the canteen!!!

#4 WALK n TALK - MOBILE

Usually 4’’ long, some boast longer… Stop measuring now. The crazy ones are employed by their mobiles for a finger MASSAGE by a MESSAGE every millisecond (inputs from Gayathri) and a few others who can’t part even in the LOO. Mobiles can prove bad masters too… Once, enjoying my classmate being bombarded with Q’s by the teacher in all possible  TECHNICAL words, his mobile on ‘Samsung Volume 14” (phrase courtesy: Swetha) promptly rang “Evandi unna petha petha petha petha…” :o!!! Both their reactions were worth an oscar. Only if I had a pic to show you:D. You missed it.

#5 HELL BELL - EXAM HALL

                My genre (9 pointer by chance J)… Wait I’m not gonna bore, promise. It’s a drama on the whole. Sappae questions, racing gears of fastrack (aptronym) , pencil-borrow-eraser-lend agreement, Waterman! Scary at times!!! , underpant bits, Difficult Questions (no other choice, leave it in choice). Some specimen candidates like Shankar are more interested in ‘lady supervision’ than ‘genetic Engg. Mission’( statement as received – text message – 24.05.2012 – 04:41:35 p.m.)  ;). Exactly at 11 would arrive the friend-of-all Ramu from canteen. Read it from both a student’s and an invigilator’s prerspective – no? Caapi, COPY, caapi…

#6 CUPID’S -  LOVE

                Sighting – Staring – Smiling – Shying – Blushing – Texting – Calling – Meeting – Eating – Movie-ing – Driving – Dating – Hiding – Doubting – Fighting – Crying – Sigh-ing – Drinking – Dancing – Chucking – Advising – Falling – Sighting AGAIN. Thus a virtuous cycle J You were so engrossed that you forgot the most important part – LOVING!!! God knows where. Have one more go, for I’ve taken so much time and pains to bubble-sort the events J Two singles (Swe’s fav oxymoron) with unmatched characteristics and interests must have a try!!! Shanjiv will understand this even more better.

#7 PETER DUDE

                It’s a prefix (or sometimes Euphemism, else substituted with displeasing words) to your name for people fear English would win Indian hearts or vice-versa ( Doraiammal- Parthy anyone???) .You’ll be looked up like a new animal into the zoo and placed in a special niche (for my pals sitting back and reading- the niche is  LDS of course!) with elite treatment and set many a tops flaming. But thanks, no regrets… “Confident of knowing an additional language” – I quote Swe. Another biggie for the P-tag holders is a perfect 10 in VIVA’s. * laughs*. One of the many curses in the vernacular jumps to you if you ask for a ‘Mangosteen’ instead of ‘Nongu’ or ‘Nungu’ whatever. Abishek! hope you’re still reading.

#8 PLEASE DEO

                “Damn! The taps gave nothing but air” (hostel taps) Why tension? No tension! (In Shankar’s words). Solution is anonymous… AXE! AXE! AXE! Wait! Then the girls? “THE AXE EFFECT” exclaims Thrisha (Name changed deliberately) “but does not apply to GCT guys” she quips. Anyways , the Placement Representatives must be urged to call AXE to sign an MoU at least for the benefits of a ‘very few’ ,who shower daily, to sit in the class.

#9 GO BUNKING

This art is of three types:

Classical: Hiding yourself ( with another, if applicable) in a theatre, park or a bakery.

Contemporary: I’ve been called by ‘Dr.XYZ’, I repeat ‘Dr.’ for a meeting immediately. I must Go else You are screwed.

 Freestyle: Sneak out of the class when the teacher is attending to the Board. Or try the reverse of an adJ

And  I fall in the second category along with a few other professional-contemporary-bunkers (Left to the Reader’s conscience. If you don’t fall in any of the three, “Who cares? Just chuck (word courtesy: Nivi) the class dude”. Sounds like a free advice from ‘pro’ Ramkumar… bunking most of the Fridays and Mondays.

#10 DEPARTMENT FESTS

                It’s party time! The whole college is lit up with expectations of spicy events (not the technical in the wildest of dreams, only the culturals in an Engg. college!!!) and even spicier aftermath. Well, this is also grab-in-as-much-as-you-can time for some! I mean exposure (GCT secrets Shhh….). you get FREE refreshments, FREE action, FREE drama, FREE fashion show (intra college ;)) and what more??? FREE HOURS (O.D. :D)

                It’s an irony, for my friends would agree, The College which was bitched about two years back has redefined most of our lives especially mine!!! I now feel Damn PROUD to say - I AM FROM GEECEETEE!!!

My turn

Gowtham