A Man's Journey Through HelL - VI

“See, in fact, depending on the method you use in fact, your calculation can give you different answers for the same numerical”, spewed the emaciated Wall Street wannabe. Strange though this would undoubtedly have sounded to him before he had entered the hallowed campus, by this time, he had been rendered immune to such hilarities and he barely paused in mid-snore as these words whizzed past his barely-conscious brain. It was the last class before the mid-terms and all he could think of was just what he would write in that endemic irrelevance of his campus, called the ‘Feedback Form’. Comments like “In Term1 he merely shredded my interest in Finance…in Term3, he truly massacred the remnants…” were rife in that, but everyone knew that it was merely more fodder for the shredder… Ah well, how the cynical had fallen…

The first lecture after the mid-terms was decidedly different though. It was, all of a sudden as if everyone had returned to that bright-eyed and wide-eyed attention of Term1 and then some. As the Hunchback of Notre Campus entered the class, so too, it seemed, did the Angel of Doom, for there descended upon the room a deathly silence and upon the faces of the students, a pallor that matched. Reputations, they say, precede one and for this Quasimodo, the reputation was that the deformities that mattered were hardly those that were apparent to the eye…

“Understanding? Or confusing?” he sneered from the elevated platform, gazing upon an offender who had dared to lower her eyes to her notebook for a second. “That’s an F for sure,” whispered someone. Not surprisingly, the lady in question happened to score a very respectable B, but the very fact that this happening was not surprising is the beginning of the mystery and enigma that is called Baba. Rumour of course was very inaccurate about him, citing reasons like mental instability and a deep-seated sadism coupled with a lack of understanding of basic statistical rules. The deep and dark truth was actually quite different. Hunchie, it was ultimately discovered, took all the uncorrected answer sheets and stood at the bottom of the staircase of the Faculty Block. Then, at the stroke of midnight of the first full-moon night in March, he took the name of Devi…oops, Satan (That was the beginning of Devil, you dim-dums, before you get any ideas), swigged a double scotch, slit a rooster’s neck and tossed all the answer sheets high up in the air. Then, depending on which stair the sheets landed on, he awarded grades… Marking was then completed by him to ensure that the results were fair…

This of course was all very fine with the mid-graders as suddenly a chappie with only a D and an F to show for his first two attempts at Statistics, landed up being the topper, while of course, J Pappoo ended up with a remarkable D…although the Math Olympic Gold Medalist topped him as well…with an F. 29 Fs, 17Ds and no A+s or As…now THAT’s what constituted a REAL normal curve… It was only now that the people of the class began to understand the true depth of that seemingly innocuous question that someone had asked in Term1 (“But why do we use the same normal curve for all the questions???”). Here, at long last, was evidence… They didn’t… Normal is as normal does, it would seem, eh?

All, of course, was not dark and morbid in these days. The college fest had been and gone and had been quite spectacular in terms of the spectacle it provided…depending of course on how much you cared for it… The inauguration had set the tone really, when the opening address began with the immortal quote, “I welcome you to IIML, the best B-school in Lucknow…” Thereafter of course, the fest followed this honest tone, with an introduction going, “I would like to welcome Mr. S Raha, the Chairman of IOCL”. “Psst…sir, that’s ONGC!!!” went an usher… “Yeah, yeah, same thing” announced the illustrious speaker. These two, quite sadly, formed the acmes of the fest…along with the amusing reality that the website that carried the fest’s name, seemed to be a gay porn site… Ah well, the effects of being late with registering an oh-so-creative name…

For the remainder of course, the term ‘drogged’ on and enthusiasm ‘dropped’ just like the ‘drog and drop’ that they were subjected to in the classroom… The bright spot of course was that the Fin Prof had changed after the mids and they now had a Bong who seemed at least, to be aware of what he taught. The fires in their Financial bellies now had a new vigour…until that fateful day… “Too-day, bhee will laarn the Oraan-gootaan thyo-raam. There was an experiment in bheech there was waan team of phinaancial ex-paarts and the aather team was sitting with an oraan-gootaan and a dart-board with stock names written on it. The phinancial ex-paarts made and aapdated their portfolio on phinancial principles and the aather team invested on the stocks that the oraan-gootaan’s darts were hitting. Aapter three years, there was a dipherence of .25% in the retaarns…”

It was fairly raining Bongs of course…what with their penchant for the Methodolgy of Research… “Iph a paarticular question is not quaaanteetative…” went this one, “than it eez saamthing aather than quaaanteetative.” It was just the orgasmic smile on his face that prevented the brighter sparks from perhaps pointing out to him that this may actually not be as big a revelation as he believed it to be. Not, of course, that it made any difference in the bigger scheme of things, but these brighter sparks always seem to be on the lookout for things to discuss with the professors after the lecture…

HR of course, was a totally different cuppa. The prof quite obviously shared the students’ view on what a classroom really was made for, but that was about where the similarities and the prof’s sympathies ended. Sleeping in class, when one is a prof, presents one with the slight, although easily surpassed, difficulty of just how to ensure that the class is not disrupted more than normal. The pre-mid guy had apparently perfected his strategy over the years though. It was simple and effective and ensured that any lack of sleep elsewhere did not in any way hamper his productivity professionally… The strategy was so surprisingly simple, that it’s a wonder that the others in the Faculty had not thought of it yet… Get the students to conduct the lecture, occupy the seat of one of those conducting the class and then do exactly what the student would have done, had the prof been the one talking. Smooth and simple…and vindictive of course, but hey, who’s complaining? Oh wait, nobody’s thought of it? Hmm… I think VG may have something to say about that…

Post-mids of course, things had stabilized with a guest lecturer who believed that he would rather see the students sleep than bother himself with the tedium of listening to them… But hey, he did reveal the questions before the paper, so one is probably safe in saying that he was one of the more popular figures on campus…till he reneged of course…

Quotes of the Term: (Taken from the written material handed out in the course regarding the Management of Materialistic ‘things’.

“Temperature is measured in ‘Celsius’. Earlier it used to be measured in Centigrade…”
“Simplification reduces the nature of parts of a product.”
“Parts and components can be defined as parts and components that are used.”

Perhaps the one real hallmark of the Institute though was that those in positions of authority did not seem to consider it at all necessary to believe in the importance or the necessity or indeed the veracity of the topics they taught. How else could one explain a Communist teaching Keynesian Economics or an MIS professor who believed that ERPs were the worst thing to happen to the corporate world or a Quant professor who did not, seemingly at least, know what a normal distribution was or, of course, a Marketing professor who spoke for an hour on the importance of listening? Ah well, summers were approaching and with them came the promise of a new experience…one of freedom, professionalism, learning, stipends, networking…and most importantly, beer…plus of course, the opportunity to meet, from a position of considerable advantage, all the girls that had gained admission into the new batch… Yes indeed, pride goes before a fall…