Comfortable Awkwardness

I admit it. I’m a dog lover. Not the squealy-squishy-mushy sort that can’t resist the temptation to cuddle every canine they encounter, but I like having them around me. Roxy’s presence was important for me, because he was in so many ways a reminder of all the four-legged-fur factories I had left back home. But there was something more interesting about Roxy. If anyone can ever claim to ‘own’ MICA, it is this German Shepherd. I don’t know much of his back story, but when I first saw him in PGP1, he had an air or wisdom and a calm understanding. Nothing bothered him, nothing disturbed him- except the cat of course!

His derision for the constantly multiplying feline population on campus often drove this ageing dog, into a sprint to drive them up a tree or corner them in the hostels. He never really hurt them, but I guess he enjoyed maintaining his status as the only important four-legged creature on campus.

Roxy walked around on campus unhindered by the goings on of campus life. On a hot day, he would quietly come and stand before SH1. He wouldn’t bark. He’d just stand there, fully confident that someone would open the door and let him sleep in the air-conditioned room. Professors would pause their lecture till Roxy had found a comfortable spot to rest in. Mathew- in the middle of a very intense discussion- would stop only to open the auditorium door for him. Roxy ruled all.

On a couple of cold winter nights he walked into my room and made himself comfortable on my bed. I felt honoured. J If you see pictures of MICA from the last few years, somewhere in some corner, behind a pillar maybe, or standing in the background, you’ll find that beautiful brown snout.

Roxy chose where to go and how to live and though he never really interrupted anyone’s life, we never realised how important his presence was till he moved away from here last summer.  In that year people like Ravneet, Saurabh, Amit and Swati made life a little more comfortable for him but it was time to move on. Roxy now lives in retirement faraway. But he will always be a part of everything MICA was for me.

Its a disease. The black plague that hit Micamail. A termination is a silly, and sometimes cruel prank, played on a Mican careless enough to have left his micamail page open, and signed in. What’s a terminator (not to be confused with time travelling robots) to do? What eventually ensues is a mail sent to the batch (both batches and CCC if the terminator is feeling adventurous and confident) that is bound to embarrass the owner of the fallen email id.

The length and content of the termination depends on:

a)      The duration for which the concerned laptop is left unguarded

b)      The creative inclinations of the terminator

Sometimes a long, and well crafted termination finds its way to our mailboxes, as in the case of Abhishek Shandilya’s palmistry one not so long ago. In other cases, just a subject line termination would suffice- like the EOI for the Govt. Of Bangladesh termination of Apan Singhal. While most terminations are harmless, some can be extremely cruel- like the ones announcing a deadline extension 5 minutes before a submission, when there isn’t one. The implications of such a termination can be horrifying. The terminatee is then subject to some 150 phone calls in the duration of those 5 minutes and is clueless about what’s going on because he/she was off submitting the assignment when the crime was perpetrated on his/her mailbox! Trust me, it has happened to me!

But what’s peculiar about terminations is that, unlike other crimes (if I may be so harsh), the terminatee ends up apologising to the community at large, and not the terminator. Every termination is followed by a brief, yet apologetic mail on behalf of the victim saying ‘terminated’. The terminator, however, if found, is let off scott free, to roam the hostels and classrooms to find more unattended laptops.

There are people like me, who have been terminated just a couple of times in the last two years. I suppose most people average about 8-10 times. But then, there are the terminally terminated like Aditya Singh and others- who are the constant targets of these terminators. There are days when micamail is just full of terminations. They are an integral and important part of spam.

While some are entertaining and others are mostly dumb, terminations are a special, fun part of micamail. I only hope that when we move on from here, to our workplaces, at home, and in the real world at large, we are able to see someone’s signed in, unattended laptop and LEAVE IT ALONE!

When for the first time I saw that people in MICA could actually paint their hostel rooms I was over the moon. Most of us come from places where, let alone painting an entire wall, our parents/landlords would throw a royal fit if tings as much as moved a quarter of a millimetre around. But MICA afforded you the power of customization. And why am I talking about it today? Litcomm has chosen to honour all those memories by giving us a them a special space in the yearbook and I couldn’t be happier! (If you haven’t sent it yet, go do that first, this blog can wait!).

I feel however, that there is a vicious cycle at play here in all this customization business. We paint our walls because the thought of living in a room with a boring white wall, and whitewash that gets on to everything, is horrifying. It’s like we’re in some sort of rehab resort (not that I’m really contesting either of the two words). This whitewash in turn, is put there by the admin because, well, we’ll paint over it anyway. I’m not sure how long this has been going on, but I suspect that if we manage to carefully scrape off every consecutive layer of paint and whitewash (no one ever removes the existing substance on the wall), we’d find a brilliant time capsule of sorts. The person, who lived in my room before, was enthusiastic enough to paint even all the light switches with wall paint! Traces of that brilliant yellow still peep out from corners left untouched by the whitewash. Below that are traces of a deep blue, maybe from the years before. Every layer says a little bit about the person who lived there. Remember the Bhagat Singh painting on Atin’s wall? Or the awesomely sinister collage that Anuja made? I made a monkey (but let’s not make too many connections with my own personality there!).

Our rooms, as much as it may annoy people back home, are really like our own home. They are where our most special and most personal MICA memories happened. Some rooms were masterpieces, others were, well, a dangerous combination of excess paint and excess enthusiasm. And all of them were fun. It wasn’t always a one-person job. Different people chipped in, and many more watched. We even toured each other’s hostels. In this end, we definitely left a hell of a mess for Chandwani to clean up after we’re gone.

This is not a sport. It is arguably the single, most important activity that happens on campus. Who you are is what you play. And badminton, trumps all the other sports by being the most accessible game on campus.

The passion begins in those pre-culturalization days. Eager, to-be Micans had seen the Baddy court (as it is fondly called) on the GD-PI day and promptly carried along their racquets when they finally reached campus. What began as a simple evening sport, is a life changing event for some. Badminton is not a game for the light hearted.

Friendships were made on that court and rivalries were played out. And then there was Coxic Smash. That one, violent, ruthless and immensely entertaining SCAM event is the place to be for all MICA. Who can forget the pomp and splendour of the Mallu Marauders and the Bengali Bandits? Every point scored is a memory. That night will go down in history as one of the noisiest events of the year. How those guys managed to play, given the sheer racket (pun intended) their own fandom generated is beyond me. We cheered for our side, jeered the others. We won, we lost, we lived, we even had the brilliant refreshments that TD provided- all on that badminton court.

It also holds distinction as one of the sporting events that both genders on campus participate in whole heartedly. A special mention for Padmini and Apurva- both spectacular players- who have devoted hours of their life (and very recently, in Padmini’s case, her wrist too!) to the game.

It so became a part of the Mican way of life that former residents of Palash and Parijat (Rooms 1, 14 and 23 through 26) still hear the sound of the shuttlecock bouncing off eager racquets in the middle of the night. The ‘tock, pause, tock’ sound is something that will stay with them forever. No one outside of MICA would ever understand it. But badminton here, is not just a game.

Let’s face it. Powerpoint is our life. From now, for about the next 30 odd years (or until they invent a better alternative), we’ll be making powerpoint presentations. But today, I made my last one (hopefully!) for MICA. The last assignment. The dream. But what was a carefully thought out process in pre-MICA days, sometimes needing a rehearsal maybe, or definitely a lot of deliberation- is something that we now do quicker than you can say ‘ppt’. Whenever an assignment is announced, the immediate question is- word doc or ppt? Talking in windows extensions terms is the burden our generation will carry forever. Hearts are filled with joy, when its a ppt and not a word doc. That just means less words no? The process of the ppt begins, about an hour (on a good day) before the actual presentation, with four glorious words- Click to add title. Grand marketing plans are made, research problems are solves and the wisdom of the world is pronounced- with bullet points! I bet any Mican, anywhere, is capable of making and presenting a ppt on just about ANY topic, in about two and a half minutes. Has slide, can present. This seems to have inspired a very popular and immensely entertaining Litcomm event as well. I doubt there is a Mican in this world, who at least once in his or her life, hasn’t completely ad-libbed an entire presentation. It is that immensely glorious confidence, and sense of mystery that drowns your heart, when you press that  key, without the slightest clue on what is about to appear on the next slide. Beaming with all that confidence, you register the words on the ppt for about half a second and go on to enthral the audience (and sometimes the unsuspecting professor) with your brilliance. The feeling is wonderful. Not so long ago, I was quite amazed at Apoorva’s talent at making a very nice (and eventually appreciated) presentation. Starting out with some 5 odd paltry, content-less slides, she fashioned a presentation is the 15 minutes that the group before ours went before the class to talk. When all else failed, google came to the rescue. Group members sitting in various corners of the class sent in their two bits through micamail chat and in minutes, we dazzled the audience. At the risk of slight exaggeration, the process is almost as dramatic every time, and Micans never fail to disappoint. Powerpoint presentations are our sixth sense. They are our bread and butter (and a little jam). Yes, we need to face it, powerpoint, is our life.

I wonder sometimes how MICA functioned before there was micamail. You can imagine MICA without any other single piece of infrastructure, except micamail. Even as you read this, many will have micamail open on the other tab. Its not that you use it all the time, but it’s reassuring to know it’s there, no?

Every once in a while, I refresh the page. Some permanent facets of the page invariably are- a random lost and found article, someone calling out for ‘Footy at 5’ and almost definitely, an input from Ashok Chauhan declaring the interest the Indian print media takes in the happenings on our campus.

I don’t open any of them. They are part of the 8,120 unread mails that are lying in my inbox right now. But I also don’t delete them. If you strung together every email sent from the time you fist accessed that account (after a particularly trying session with the IT guys), till date, you could find an interesting story to tell. Micamail is a kind of a ‘sutradhar’, if you will, of everything that happens here. The fights people had, the jokes they cracked, the assignments they auctioned for Shikari Chicken (read: Lakshmi & Rana) and the general mundane events that happened all through the day. I doubt there is any PGP1 batch in history, at least about 50% of which haven’t lost their umbrellas in the first term and dutifully reported it on micamail.

I also doubt there are too many people out there who haven’t been terminated. While that particular micamail activity is the subject for another blogpost, micamail for PGP17 spawned the very popular SISA awards (Annual Summer Internship SPAM Awards). While that brings many, many memories of the boredom of those initial internship days, it is a very grand celebration of micamail and how it enriches (!) our lives.

I opened the spam (and, of course, about half a dozen important mails) to read intense micamail discussions interrupted by Vamsi and Divyanshu’s private conversations. Then there was the time of ‘Babloooooooooo’ which began every internship week (for us as well as Ashok Chauhan, who most definitely must have been very puzzled!). And of course, there was TD, adding her two bits to the spam. There were also those mails that complaining about the large number of (unnecessary) assignments- that were inadvertently sent to the concerned faculty! This also led to the inclusion of a mandatory line adopted by all CoCos while sending mails-“Please note: This mail has also been marked to ‘insert Prof. Name’ and his/her RA”.

Very soon, our group id- pgp2@micamail.in, will be lost. It will be passed on through generations of micans, just like it was handed down to us. But rest assured, the spamming will continue. Umbrellas will continue to be lost, and deadlines will continue to be extended. And legend has it, that long after we leave this campus, and get busy with the nitty-gritties of the real world, we will return- about a year later, with the words- “Tax return file kiya kya?”.

‘Deadline Extension’ are the words that make me refresh my micamail page every 5 minutes before a frantic last-minute submission. That one email from the CoCo is like a gift of life to those who started working on the EOD submission at about 8:30pm.

The deadline- usually an insignificant date is announced about a month before when the professor gives the assignment. It is a strategically chosen date (quite understandably by class consesnsus) so that it doesn’t fall on any day already claimed by Placecomm, MICANVAS, Sankalp, SCAM, Culcomm, MLS, MCR, Litcomm…well, you get the picture. It would also be preferable if it weren’t anyone (or their respective love interest’s birthday) on that day. But this date however, has as little influence on the Mican life….up until 48 hours before. That is when the CoCo or professor (depending on the severity of the situation) hits the panic button. This is when the CoCo is then to make all attempts to push the deadline.

The pushing of the deadline is a very complex process. While I have personally never had to do it, the CoCo (and in the case of the dissertation, MCSA) that successfully pushes the deadline to a more acceptable date go down in history as some of the most successful Micans of the batch.

The plea for the deadline extension is presented alongside many, sincere and earnest (sounding) reasons. But usually, the reason for actually pushing the deadline may be:

»There is an even bigger assignment due on the same/previous/next day (which will also be postponed)

»There is/was a party

» No one remembered the assignment till like just now!

» It was holi and we had too much bhang.

» Everyone is holidaying in Diu (in case of group submissions)

» We all thought it was EOD, but it was actually ‘Hard Copy to Chintan Shah at 5pm’

» The library was shut

Ok, the last one is fake, but while the reasons seem bizarre and almost amusing, their legitimacy will not be apparent to those that have never been to MICA. The ‘first deadline’ is a phrase coined for us. It is merely a humbly suggested date when the professor would be pleased to see your submission. It is by no means binding. The students know it, the professor knows it. Probably Chintan Shah also knows it. The MICA deadline will always stand as a symbol for those many, many hours spent refreshing micamail, and whiling away time, till the CoCo brings us and our assignments, the glorious gift of time.