well i'm back to my curling up with a book habit. people from RVCE will flog me if i say i didn't have time to read because of engineering, but the truth is i had a little falling off with reading, ( do people have that? hmmm) half way through my engineering, can't think why, anyhow finished quite few books in the past week and really utilizing my Eloor membership.
i don't know why i picked up Chetan Bhagat's Five Point Someone, i scoff at all things IIT, i can't stand the mythic hype that surrounds this institution, and the inside cover said, Mr. Bhagat graduated from IIT and IIMA, and was now an I-banker (yawn), obviously this book was going to be one annoyingly cloying ode to his Alma mater right? (he even dedicates the book to it!). inspite of all these disconcerting misgivings, i began reading the book and did so for five hours straight till i finished the book.
it was absolutely antithetical to my preconceived notions, far from an ode, this book is a rant against the entire IIT system right from page 5, but thats not why i liked this book. i liked it because it made me utterly nostalgic about my own engineering experiences. its a story about the trials and tribulations of three guys, Hari, Ryan and Alok and their attempts to sucessfully complete the mechanical engineering course at the IIT. Right from the start when the protagonists groan at Manufacturing process classes, i remembered my own class, their fidgety doodling, bored yawns, those smart ass comments that elicited a tired chuckle, those nerds at the front benches, licking their lips and axiously copying notes, it brought back so many memories, this book started a nostalgic movie in my head.
Ryan the bored genius in this book reminded me of one such guy in my own class. i used to sit next to him and during classes he would drum his pencil on the desk furiously, fidget and sometimes even sing handle's Messiah, give everybody the "can't believe you want to listen to this crap" look, then go on to design a radically different dog clutch, and would give me a triumphant look and say " these classes kill creativity!". he was right! and i felt like a pro-establishment loser.
the mention about machine labs reminded me of the first time i handled a lathe machine, a serious boys' toy. being the sentimental fogey i am, i desperately wanted to keep my first ever machined part, but was not allowed to do so. now during machining, the metallic chips have this beautiful way of curling up. watching them curl up was like watchin a waterfall, or waves breaking, it was mesmerizing. i even took the curled chips from my first machining endeavour and made it into a bracelet and wore it so proudly, showing off to all my classmates, who rolled their eyes at such "girly" antics.
semester exams brought back tons of memories about my own harried semester exam preperation (rather the lack of it!). the all nighters, midnight SMS's to find out what to leave or to check the status quo of the other person, the smart alec who tells you 30 minutes before the exam that a chapter you thought insignificant was infact very very significant, the subsequent panic attack for not studying the aforementioned chapter, the malicious determination to cause panic attacks among other people who have also not studied the said chapter, the bored genius traipsing through as if life was sunshine itself, and finally dying a million deaths during the exam, because the only chapter you did not study features prominently. you know the last bit has happened so many times that i'm sure theres a science to it
i did not review five point someone because tonnes of people have already done that and my reading was too intertwined with nostagia for me to be objective about it, but i really liked the writing, it had some chuckle worthy smart lines and ofcourse the three of them are such goofy idiots that they are utterly endearing, but it would be really interesting to get a non engineers perspective though.
soon, college will be over for good. our farewell is in the last week of may, and i owe a full post dedicated to the idiosycracies of my all male class and as one discerning senior rightly pointed out, sometimes, nostalgia is opium enough
sigh
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