This is a tribute to all those with whom I started a wonderful journey, but shall be compelled by circumstances to end the same without them.
Fig. 0: The haluest guy is the writer of this blog
Fig. 1: Ayan files a petition demanding worse weather (sunshine, rain, etc) along with Bhalu
Ayan is mentioned first because (i) he is the institute topper, unless he horribly screws up his last endsems ;) (ii) not mentioning his eminence first may have consequences like DC etc. Mr. A Sengupta (B.Tech version), also known as Prof. ASG among the junta, is the living personification of how people conceive, chase after, hunt down, skin alive, roast, devour and finally ingest dreams. One fine morning in Salt Lake, ASG in presence of a catalyst named Debangshu Mukherjee, suddenly realized how poor his academic concepts are. And then there was no stopping him. Immersing himself in super human pressure (measured by a special unit named after him and his partner-in-load Debanjan – 1 “Chaap” – which approximately equals the pressure exerted by an elephant trying to balance himself on a pin) ASG chased relentlessly after the gilded circlet of glory. We who have been fortunate enough to witness the precise mechanism of that phenomenon (a queer mixture of comedy, tragedy and oodles of the aaaaarrrrrrgggggghhhh factor) shall remember him for years to come, and uphold him as an example for our kids not to follow. :P
Ayan can be currently found around EPFL in the Swiss Alps, staring hard at the snow until it melts in fear.
Nachiket Desai and Tanaya Sahu:
Fig. 2: Nachi (right corner, green t-shirt) delivering his electronic sermons
When God wanted to try his hand at electronics, the Nachiket avatar was born. Known as Nachi to the department and Nochi to Ayan in particular, he is one guy who learned something out of the 4 years spent here. Secret news is that first year students play trump cards in which Nachi features as a prized possession, with statistics like “744 pages of notes photocopied from him, 87 assignments distributed by him, 17 people passed with his help, 8 codes shared with all” glittering the parchment. Not to mention “current residential status” set to “MIT” and “current relationship status” set to “committed” (you think that’s not an achievement?? Just come to IIT!!). Sitting beside Nachi in the classes is a recursive call to a class in itself, with information flowing more densely from your right (or left) than from out in your front. Nachi’s phone serves more customers in trouble than a reputed BPO, especially the night before examinations. Everybody is in awe of him, except one, who has marked him as “liar liar” on the back cover of the digital VLSI notebook.
Which brings us to the topic of Tanu. Tanu started her career most benignly by chasing birds and roaming around the corridors in school in utter ignorance of the fact that she was supposed to sit in one place. From that, the damsel with the beatific smile, whose left hand is longer than her right (or maybe the other way round), promoted herself to the Goddess of Good Handwriting, and the Chair(wo)man of the NDC (Notes Distribution Committee). SN Hall’s gate is always crowded by boys for her. Don’t get me wrong, it’s for her notes, which circulate the department till the dire emergency of its return to its rightful owner emerges a few hours before the examinations. Add to that her culinary and singing skills, and you will be as confused as I am about which trait exactly won Nachi over.
The immense intelligence of the God and his Goddess took a backseat when they placed themselves on diagonally opposite ends of USA. Never mind. Bless their (going-to-be) children; I would have been born psyched with parents having a combined CGPA more than 19.
Nachi is currently busy belittling Profs at MIT. Tanu waits for Prince Charming in UCLA California, singing Tere Bina Jiya Jaye Na… while scrutinizing Nachi’s income and expenditure statement for possibilities of optimization.
Fig. 3: Nachi and Tanu insisted that no picture of them together be put up. Obviously they underestimated my smartness
Fig. 4: Gujju either shouting "Yo Gujrat" or "Yo Nehru" or "Yo SBI ka khata"
Unlike his name, the Gujju isn’t sexy. Gujju openly flaunts his Gujju-est accent in class, shamelessly confesses having left his khata in State Bank and has a fetish for sleeping on his infamous gamcha at arbitrary locations in Germany. But Gujju is so sincere about his studies that for every class he misses (no! he doesn’t bunk!!) Gujju reads the notes and writes them down in his own notebook manually, but never photocopies them. Gujju is a big shot in Technology General Championship for Nehru, and missed out on the GC by a hair’s width of poltu in his final year. Gujju however, has found his place in J.P. Morgan Chase, and intends to chase success henceforth with full concentration (in preparation for which he took a special course on algorithms and regretted it later).
Gujju can be currently found in JPMC Mumbai, contemplating the economic impact of converting cotton mills of Gujrat into semiconductor fabrication labs, and the investment required for the same.
Fig. 5: The "Zara Zara Touch Me Touch Me Touch Me" Boy
Everybody calls him Juice, I call him Chhamiya, for which he calls me gay in return. But trust me, Giselle Bundchen would have wept after seeing his waist. Juice made the mistake of his life by forfeiting a lucrative (read juicy) career in modeling and aiming to become an engineer. Almost every guy in EC Department has a crush on him (including me). Juice stays indoors in fear of us, plus that of getting blown away by the wind. Juice has a smile that can start a thousand IC’s. And Juice has a strange telepathic connection with Prof IC, so that every time he decidedly announces “Aaj Sir nahi aayenge” IC walks in through the door.
Juice is currently following in the footsteps of Linda Evangelista and Yasmin Ghauri to try and re-orient himself in the Canadian modeling industry. His studio is in Waterloo.
Prabhu Pritam Dash:
Fig. 6: :P :P :D is now after Hakim. You can see "prank" written on his face
Convert his initials to smileys: :P :P :D , and that’s the best estimate of the department’s electronic monkey. It has been claimed that :P :P :D at some time was a quiet and serious guy soaked in his books. We all think it’s a blatant lie. He is the biggest and most heartless prankster to ever roam the ramparts of EC department, including the most horrible Amma repeats examination joke which made us want to hang him. :P :P :D is permanently after everybody, and takes special interest in irritating Shaunak Mishra in particular (covered later). :P :P :D goes to classes (if at all) to find a quieter environment to indulge in his i-Pod related activities, and has a chain of alleged girlfriends / crushes whose names end in “-ta”, only exception being Gaurav Srivavastava. And what :P :P :D did in Amsterdam is still a fill in the dash for all of us.
:P :P :D is currently with erection… err.. Ericsson in Gurgaon. The typo may be correct too, it’s the Dash part of him.
Shaunak Mishra and Sunav Choudhary:
The BB – Bokaro Brothers. They studied in the same school, with one coming first and feeding samosas to the other as a token of consolation.
Fig. 7: Load takes the onus of 4G Matched Filtering upon himself
Had I known Shaunak in my first year, I would have found a perfect example of a DC motor running on full load. Load is psyched about anything and everything that has remotely something to do with acads. Which has reached such an extreme that he runs to the toilet at the end of every class, and jumps up in fear when someone pings him with a picture of RVR. Load has an amazing record of messing up interviews, including one occasion when he casually walked out of the room before it was actually over. Load searches Google for everything, including the definition of frequency (you know what I mean) and picture of a blonde Oriya Brahmin girl who he dreams to marry (don’t mistake the blonde part, the first comment Load passes on an insanely hot girl is “Abbe uska baal dekha??”). Load is the God of communications, curses his choice to no end, and played football till he dropped after finally landing the dream university. Load is terrified of policemen. And Load teams up everywhere with Sunav.
Talking of Sunav, he has no nickname. Sunav was under the impression that the world is composed of men, and some people who somehow don’t look like men. He also condescended to marrying one of that sect under pressure from his father way back in first year (for the future, I mean). Sunav takes electronics real seriously, going as far as getting himself electroculated in the rain while wading through a puddle. And then, one fine morning, Sunav’s Gtalk status message announced “Vegas Baby Vegas”. Thus Sunav became aware of women. But it has not affected him much. His first favorite music track (to which he secretly tried dancing in his room) was Jhalak Dikhlaaa Jaaa(n)… by you know who. He still talks to the jhaal mudi seller in Hindi within West Bengal and in Bengali while in Jharkhand. And he remains the God of Mathematics till today, when all of us have happily removed it from the tiny hard disks residing in our heads.
Load can be currently found in one of the toilets of UCLA sending wireless signals to Sunav, who receives the same from USC Viterbi. Content of those messages is suppressed.
Fig. 8: Sunav (camel t-shirt) visibly upset at being separated from Load
Fig. 9: PM reflecting peacefully about life
Had PM been a little shorter, he would have beaten even Juice in Miss India contest. PM is the God of peaceful affairs, and it has been commented that unless one day PM realizes that there is a time bomb ticking away inside his trousers, he won’t get excited. PM is another God in Mathematics, and claims the most esoteric and byzantine theorems to be “obvious”. PM rides a cycle which is older than him, and respects the venerable object dearly, and a working model of the first mobile phone to hit the Indian markets still vibrates in his pocket. PM assumes a circular topology beneath his famous chaadar in winter and goes into hibernation. PM is also our suggested future replacement for PM senior, save the fact that PM junior feels a little out of place among poles and zeros.
PM currently lives his good old halcyon days in Maryland. No cute girl has excited him as of yet.
Fig. 10: SSS uses Colgate every morning. Aur aap?
SSS is the management guru of the EC department. The dude is so freaking awesome, he maintains a CGPA well above 9 despite being a member-turned-head-turned-S.Comm. of Kshitij (although we know how he does that :P). Plus SSS is a deft swimmer and a real good TT player. Contrary to popular opinion, SSS does not smile, his face is set into a contortion that resembles a smile at all times. Such is his glamour, SSS leads the way in interns and placements alike, sidetracking the Gods upon every opportunity. And despite all this, SSS roams the campus in a discolored orange T-shirt bowing his head and meekly smiling. SSS is seldom there in class, and when he is, he makes sure his presence is noticed by suddenly starting to ask doubts. SSS is a highly eligible bachelor (as are 80% of the people reading or mentioned in this blog - plus the writer), and apparently SSS would love to fall in love, but as is the way with women, they fail to recognize the real gems.
Currently SSS can be found in the BarCap office in Singapore. His employers suspect he is under an advertising contract with Colgate from his never-ending smile.
Fig. 11: Andy being given the Best Biceps Award
The hitman /bouncer. Somewhere in 2nd year, Andy decided to have long hair (thankfully he got rid of his mane later on). And then came the gym. No man has shuttled with so high a frequency between classes and the gym as him. The effect showed. Andy blew up like a hot air balloon, and latest news is that Andy no longer finds the weights in the machines in the gym sufficient, thus lifts whole machines for his daily exercise. Andy apparently also lives under the oath of reticence, with the answer to almost any question under the sky being a mere “Hmm” from him. Andy does not miss classes, and in addition to that does not miss sitting in the first row right next to Stud Matka, although he has been caught shamelessly sleeping at times. But the greatest thing about Andy is nobody dares to tease him in any way. Effects can be lethal, as had been demonstrated by a “friendly fist” upon our dear bear brother in 2nd year which promptly landed him up in the hospital.
Andy claims to be at Columbia University, but trusted sources inform us that he stalks the streets of New York by night and works as a bouncer in Las Vegas in summer for extra cash.
Devi Prasanna Pati:
Fig. 12: See how happy (not gay) Pati is?
Pati (also called Devi at times for his ineluctable femininity) was not in anyway one of the winners of Kaun Banega Crorepati. But he does have a secret resemblance to Sunny Deol. Pati resembles a smiling gunny bag, and the sunny side of him lies in his "dhaai kilo ka haath". Not that it has landed on anybody, but rumors are the Santa (Santanu Mandal) has been threatened more than once with the same (upon which he screamed out his passionate love for Pati to win his heart over). A sheer opposite to Load, Pati has never been seen tensed - be it an extra assignment, an increased end-semester syllabus or an extra class called at 8 PM. Pati has a watch which people believe to be the core portion of a broken down grandfather clock, and the huge rectangular dial is frequently consulted for the moment of emancipation while Pati is in class. Pati has also been accused of under-utilizing his glasses; more often than not Pati peers from above the frame than from through it; but such effects may have been imbibed out of admiration of the departmental post office with not-so-admirable services (you know who..).
Pati now "think"-s at IBM Bangy. Whether it is for mankind or for formally assuming the status of pati is an entirely different debate though.
Fig. 13: Little Ribald Red Riding Hood KD
Small is the new big, they said. And right they were! KD is the smallest organic chronometer ever designed. KD wakes up at 6:50 sharp, brushes his teeth for precisely 2 minutes 37 seconds and has breakfast 7 minutes 13 seconds starting at 7:20, upon which he leaves for classes. KD held an astounding (and, let’s admit it, extremely irritating) record of 100% attendance till his 7th sem, and only in his 8th did he finally decide to give it a break. When KD’s door-lock cranked with the noise of being locked while KD was in the process of leaving for classes, I would mostly be rolling beneath the sheets, trying to contemplate whether today’s lecture would be worth attending. KD supersedes Tanu in the matter of notes distribution, only that in his case it is intended for his juniors (check the wing dustbin right after the exam, you’ll find INR 1000/- worth notes enough to make you a nehli). KD’s assumes a pose on the mess chair which makes one suspect that he is awaiting a lap dance. A firm believer in 2 fundamental and highly controversial principles – “Love is lust” and “Life is a race; if you don’t run fast you’ll be like a broken anda”, KD continues the dilemma regarding whether he is human or an android even today.
KD now resides in USC, stalking Los Angeles latinas twice his height with the immense confidence that his stipend is twice her salary.
And that all is just the tip of the iceberg. Each person I met in EC department was (is and will be) a genius. Ok, the profs would disagree, but I have seen much more of them than they have after all. Michaelangelo (Pankaj Chaukikar), Michael Jackson (Shishir Narayan), Usain Bolt (Kaustav Hakim), the Webmaster (Sai Krishna Tejaswi), the Passionate Othello (Sunil Sharma), the Smiling Wonder (Sushant Kondguli) or the Dark Knight (Kolluru Vinod) - name the masters and you shall find a budding maestro in EC department. Studying (studying???) alongside you has been an honor, a privilege, and I stand by my statement any day - I have learned much more from my friends outside the class than within.
Fig. 14: A bunch of crazy people I'll miss every single day of my life
And so. After 3 years of having braved every threatened punishment to proxy each other’s names in the attendance register, copied from each other in assignments, class tests (and semesters too) with unobtrusive shamelessness, jhapofied treats from the unsuspecting nerds at the slightest pretext, crashing into rooms for GPL’s with reckless abandon at weird hours of the night, photographing and sharing lab note books with greater gusto than a marriage ceremony and falling asleep on one another’s shoulders through lectures, it’s all over. The terrible times we spent together in labs, the morning tea Meherda bought us (actually he never paid) almost every day, the lab-bunked afternoons spent lolling on the Vikramshila grass, the late nights spent ogling the occasional samples of pulchritude, the endless frustapa of waiting for that damned BTP simulation to give the correct results and then pinging each other desperately for sources to copy from, the photo sessions, the punctured tire and the hitched ride, the laughter, the screams and the tears… it’s all gone.
Or is it? People who design memories can never forget them…