When the season of jack fruits presents itself, with the heady smell of the fruit wafting in the air, i'm reminded of Mysuru. The chips that are available at stores here in Bengaluru are hard and improperly fried.

A friend used to get home-made jack fruit chips for us. And we made it a point to remind him to do so even if he forgot. That's when i actually started enjoying then.
We used to fight for our share, or rather, for more than our share. I can taste them now. Fried to a perfect level, the sweetness of the fruit, the gentle sprinkling of salt and red chilli powder.

Wow!

When i was in college, people told me that those were the best times. ONe would carry fond memroies through out life. I shrugged. I didn't think so. What was so magical of college life? thought i.

I realise now. I recollect them with gladness.

Having studied in Christian institutions for fifteen straight years, i never got to celebrate any Hindu festivals with classmates and faculty as such. But, Mysuru was different. We celebrated Ganesh Chaturthi, Ayudha Puja, Saraswati Puja (to name a few) readily at our Department. This was very new to me. Celebrations at home are pretty low key as well.

Nevertheless, i started enjoying them. The teamwork that we put in, well i should say, it was remarkable. We came to know our class better.

I had this habit (let's say, i still have, but i've not been continuing this for more than a few months) where i doodled on my skin. Mostly on my left hand. Various objects were sketched, sometimes shabbily. Ranging from trees to abstract stuff (read weird shapes).

It saw a peak when i was in Mysuru. I used to choose various coloured markers (we carried them to mark our glassware in labs) to enhance the otherwise blue or black outlines (depending on a pen i could pick). But, i think i preferred black ink to blue ink.

Some of my friends considered this dirty and i was offered books in which i was to try out my drawing abilities. Some even came forward to allow me to colour their hands. One in particular warned that i'd contract some infection due to this prolonged abuse of my skin. That piece of advice was hardly given any attention.

Anyways, these days, i hardly use a pen on my dermis. But, i'd assume that some of those sketches were worth a look.

I cherish the times spent when in MCC and at my department at the University of Mysore. But, i never carry fond memories from my PUC days at Christ College.

Perhaps, i was too busy then or i pretended to be so.

We used to celebrate nationally significant holidays (and Rajyotsava, of course) in quite a grand manner at my department in Mysore. With the portico and the quadrangle decked up, our Chairman would hoist the tricolour. Some quizzes and snacks followed the national anthem. To end in drinking cups of tea at downs.

It was fun.

Practical exams during my M.Sc. days were fun. This is another exclusive feature of the Biochemistry Dept.. If my Profs do read this, i'm sure to listen to a word or two the next time i speak to them.

We have about forty experiments listed for each semester, and it was only in the first semester and in the second semester (to a lesser extent) that we actually went to lab regularly. Third sem saw us visit the lab, maybe for a week, and the final sem, we simply stared at the practical syllabus.

Being freshers, we took practical exams real seriously. Mugging those protocols with specific units was tough. I can never 'by-heart' details, especially when there are lots of them. After the fifteen minutes of 'procedure-writing' which were supervised by the staff, we were left to ourselves the rest of the time. During the four-five hour period we would play around while a few of us weighed salts, prepared buffers, and used colourimeters.

Who could have assumed that practical exams during post-grad could be thus? I never could've imagined it myself, if i'd not stepped in there.

When studying in Mysuru, celebrating a birthday was quite a big event. Especially when a lot of outsiders were present amongst us. We would wait for sweets to be distributed around, often pestering the person celebrating her/his birthday to hurry with the process. As the day wore on, some of us would visit a bakery to buy a cake.

The birthday person would cut the cake amidst the birthday song being sung and photos being captured. I had assumed the role of cutting the cake into even pieces. The knife was usually passed to me, while eager hands waited to grab slices of yummy cake. Within minutes, every crumb would have been eaten and swallowed.

Birthdays of professors were celebrated too. With huge cards bought for the occasion, and with each of us having written him a greeting.

My friends complain to this day that they received small pieces as i was biased. Nobody believes them, i doubt whether they themselves believe. They were the ones who always made away with huge chunks of cake.

We had Computer Science in fourth sem, M.Sc. The same old input, ouput languages, introduction to programming languages was part of the curriculum. Aren't we all taught this stuff in primary school? We were studying for an M.Sc degree and we were to answer questions like 'What is a MODEM, how does it function?' Wow!

The only interesting bit was that it was held in the Department of Computer Science, where nobody knew us. It was fun, making trips to this Department in our vehicles. You know, some twenty two-wheelers speeding towards the other end of the University campus. This lady who was assigned to take class for us was new and hardly had any experience. I pity her, for she withstood all our pranks, the nonchalent air that we carried with us and the disinterest we showed.

We did everything we could. There was not a single class when i paid good attention. We slept, read novels, talked, text messaged each other, scanned through Lodish, drew caricatures, the like.

There was this incident. I was sitting in the last row, and was feeling very sleepy and slept. I had a undisturbed nice nap for fifteen to twenty minutes. I woke up and yawned to find everybody staring at me, including the lecturer. I wondered why. Sleeping in class was nothing new to us. After class, i was told that S (who sat beside me) was questioned as to why i was sleeping. S sincerely replied that i was unwell. That was when i woke up and stretched myself, like i had no care in this world.

I don't know whether the lecturer (bless her) believed S or not. I don't think the story was accepted.

missing out on something

She is in her hometown now. Her temporary place of stay misses her quite a bit. The department, those friends, faculty - everybody will miss out on something. Something, very insignificant. At the same time, they'll send her messages saying that they miss her. They miss out on her energy and voice.

by the araLikaTTe

My department lies beside the araLikaTTe, in one corner of Manasagangotri. As in, it is at a stone's throw from my department.

Mysuru is hot and humid, according to me. I now, say that i've adjusted to the climate.

It is also a favorite hang-out of ours. We chit-chat there, our lunch boxes are opened under it's shade, a few ladies from my class practised a song at the araLikaTTe. I'm already showing it some affection. Is it because of it's close proximity to our dept.? Perhaps, that is the reason.

The araLikaTTe is something that i really like about that place. It's supposed to be a century old, and bears some historical significance. Nevertheless, it remains one of the places to be in. In my regards.