PITC Diary: February 15 (1)

Dateline February 15, 2015 (Part 1)

Last night when it was raining, I was asleep. This morning's dawn comes not shrouded in mist, but drenched in rain. Sleep visits most powerfully at two times—during drizzling rain and on winter mornings. Today when I stepped out for PT, there was no rain, true enough, but the clear imprint of water's night-kisses lingered; and the cold, of course, was still there!
In childhood or adolescence, when afternoon drizzle fell between noon and evening, darkness would descend all around. Does it still happen? How long since I've witnessed that childhood darkness. Our house had wooden windows. I would shut the windows, wrap myself in quilts, and lying there listening to the sound of rain, with sleep-heavy eyes I'd watch the geckos quarreling in the corners of the ceiling. The white-looking geckos were always the most quarrelsome ones. Sometimes the crows, drenched to the bone, would take shelter on the windowsill. The wet crows would caw—caw caw caw... There was a sparrow's nest in our house's ventilator. They'd shiver in the rain's spray and their babies would cry kiu kiu. Mother would say, "Oh dear!" Mother would finish making water-bread before Father returned from court. Before evening I'd get up and read a story or two from 'Tales from Russia,' 'The Magic Alphabet' and such books. Ah, those days of story-reading will never return again! On these ghostly rain-soaked twilight evenings, doesn't some coward's child feel like being frightened?
Well, where was I. This drowsy morning as I walk down the corridor, someone calls from behind, "Brother, walking in your sleep?" I replied, "No sister, sleeping while walking." A procession of white ants moves along the wet garden toward the reception. The orchid's petals announced that this morning holds no cold, only sleep filling the eyes. All of today's mist seems washed away by last night's rain. When spring—which hasn't yet fully escaped winter's grasp—gets drenched, it becomes melancholy spring. Nature's dejection touches us profoundly too. Its influence on body and mind grows increasingly clear. Today was no different. With an utterly weary mind, the body simply wouldn't cooperate. I threw my arms and legs about, but there was no strength in it. The body seemed to be falling apart. The instructor was in the same state. Instead of PT, we conducted an hour-long comedy show before returning to our rooms. Perhaps all earthly communion must first happen with nature. Otherwise it becomes mere ritual, never bringing true satisfaction.
What sense does it make for 'Lost like lost days, you have disappeared...' to enter my head while bathing in the morning? Cold weather on one hand, slow songs on top of that. What is this nonsense? The song kept playing, through breakfast and into class. Those who smoke have to make many sacrifices. For instance, I enter breakfast after 8:10. They have to start breakfast much earlier. At the latest by 8:05 they must finish breakfast and rush to the smoking zone near the multipurpose shop. We've named the place Brick Kiln. Just as smoke emerges from a brick kiln's chimney, when everyone smokes together there, the smoke rises in a funnel shape, narrowing upward. Seeing that scene from a distance, you'd think it was definitely a brick kiln. In their rush to get there, many don't even have time to leisurely drink their 'tea.' After smoking, they run again! They must reach class by 8:25!
There's a special technique for sleeping in class. Just before falling asleep, you must ask the teacher a question. The moment you wake up, you must ask something very relevant about whatever the teacher is saying at that instant. This shows you're attentive in class—an active participant. My luck with classroom sleep is just like that. I haven't been caught in any class so far. Today during the first two classes, when the course advisor spotted one or two people dozing in class, he gently patted their backs to wake them and called them outside for some mildly bitter scolding. During the break, one of them said to me, "Brother Sushanta, you sleep through entire classes and nothing happens to you. I dozed just a little and got caught by the teacher." I said, "What can you do, brother! The one who commits murder doesn't get hanged. The one who gets caught gets hanged." I've discovered a clever method for sleeping in the back benches. We all pooled together to 'hire with coffee' someone from the front bench. Our contract with him is this: he'll keep the teacher busy with various silly questions so the teacher won't have time to come to the back. The strategy was tested experimentally in today's class... Yeahhh... mission accomplished! The boys laugh equally at the teacher's most silly remarks. Try as I might, I can't bring myself to laugh. I keep my lips curved like a crescent moon, looking completely foolish. I can't understand whether the teacher's words are actually funny, or my sense of humor has reached too high a level, or I'm becoming an increasingly expressionless buffoon like Ramgarur's son? The last accusation comes from a certain someone.
The next class is in ITC's auditorium. ITC means International Training Complex. The bathroom locks in this world-class auditorium's washroom are broken. The chairs there are like cinema hall chairs. When you stand up, the back tilts backward and the front lifts upward. Quite annoying. Not good for sleeping either. The huge room is designed such that going to the washroom requires announcing to everyone, 'Look, I'm going to pee.' Anyone in the middle row has to make everyone beside them stand up when leaving. A thoroughly troublesome classroom! This session is with Professor Dr. Mozammel sir. Today we reached the policy decision beforehand that since in the previous class the teacher scolded several of us and deprived us of our legitimate right to side-talk in the classroom, as 'punishment' we'll 'fail' him on the evaluation form. We demand unconditional execution for all who don't speak well of us. For instance, today in the first two sessions, no matter how the teacher taught, he said nothing to any of us for sleeping, or even for whispering with neighbors, so we gave him the highest grade.
Today's classroom is decorated with balloons and gold thread. Perhaps there was some function. Red and blue balloons scattered at the gate, in the room, and around the dais. Just seeing them makes the heart feel cheerful, makes you want to pop all the balloons with a needle—pop pop pop. The class attendants sit in one corner of the dais. Their job is to assist us and the teachers in all classroom activities. Two harmoniums rest by their feet; tabla and bayan are there too. It looks like they might sit on stage any moment and start playing harmonium chords: Come then, companion, let's join hands...
Today the teacher taught us about ratio scales. This scale is constructed by arbitrarily setting any value as zero. In this scale, zero doesn't mean zero. The teacher gave an example: "Take Kareena Kapoor's zero figure, for instance. This doesn't mean there's nothing on her body at all. You have to calculate by taking a standard value as ideal or zero." (I desperately wanted to ask, "I mean, sir, could you kindly elaborate on Kareena Kapoor having 'nothing on her body'?" I suppressed my intense thirst for knowledge... The moment I heard the teacher's words, my sleep broke and I'd already imagined quite a lot!)
Then the teacher taught about quantitative variables and qualitative variables. When discussing how qualitative variables sometimes mistakenly get assigned values, I mischievously gave an example: "Sir, an example of this would be 100% love." The teacher said, "Really, does such a thing exist? Actually '100% love' means 'no love'." I immediately replied, "No sir, in this case the zero value on the ratio scale would be minus 100!"
In some context, the phrase 'I came, I saw, I conquered' came up. The teacher asked, "Well, we conquered. What next? What happened after that?" I said, "Sir, then we got lost. Veni, vidi, vici, peri."
For those who didn't understand, let me explain. The original phrase is Veni, vidi, vici. Meaning, I came, I saw, I conquered. Roman Emperor Julius Caesar first used this phrase in a letter to the Roman Senate. The three Latin verbs venire, videre, and vincere mean "to come," "to see," and "to conquer"... In first person perfect form, these three verbs become veni, vidi, vici. In Latin, "to lose" is perdet. Like the previous three verbs, its first person perfect form is peri. We often see people win, then disappear—due to lack of humility, negligence, or becoming victims of circumstances. So I satirically created: Veni, vidi, vici, peri. Meaning, I came, I saw, I conquered, I lost!
Hearing this, the teacher immediately said, "Absolutely perfect! People come, see, conquer, then can't be found anywhere, completely vanished!"
The teacher gave an example of participatory observation like this: "Doctors see 70-80 patients daily but show only 7-8 in their income tax files. An income tax inspector went to a doctor's chamber. His serial number was 67. That day he said nothing, just saw the doctor, and the next day when checking the tax file, he brought along the previous day's receipt. The doctor was completely caught! This is called participatory observation—collecting data by participating yourself and observing something."
"If you learn to observe properly, you'll be able to understand what's really happening just by looking. Take yesterday's Valentine's Day—many couples went out riding rickshaws. If you see the boy looking right, the girl looking left, and the rickshaw going straight between them, you'll know they're husband and wife. But if you see them doing lovey-dovey things, then doing... well, you understand what I mean!... then you must assume they're boyfriend and girlfriend!"
"I've taught at medical colleges for a long time and noticed that students don't want to take exams with newly appointed faculty because they mostly give low marks. For exams, senior teachers are generally better; they've seen more of the world, so they put on fewer airs."
'The Telegraph' newspaper published a list of the 30 best opening lines in world literature. First place went to the opening line of Jane Austen's 'Pride and Prejudice': "It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife." How about twisting it a bit? It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a new faculty in possession of bad marks, must be in want of experience. Hearing the teacher's words in class, I mentally rearranged the sentence this way. Actually, great people don't waste their minds on small tasks. Small people find great satisfaction in small deeds.
In Shakespeare's comedy *Much Ado About Nothing*, we see Dogberry, the chief constable of Messina, instructing his officers: "A little dozing on duty doesn't corrupt the Mahabharata. Sometimes confronting petty thieves just creates bigger trouble, making it easier for the real criminals to escape." How true that is! There are indeed many who stay busy with small-time crooks precisely to benefit the big ones. A film was made based on this comedy's plot. Let me share that scene:
Dogberry: Are you good men and true?

All: Yea.

Dogberry: Being chosen for the Prince's watch. This is your charge: You are to bid any man stand, in the prince's name.

Francis Seacole: How if a' will not stand?

Dogberry: Why, then take no note of him, but let him go.

Verges: If he will not stand when he is bidden, he is none of the prince's subjects.

Dogberry: True. and we are to meddle with none but the prince's subjects. You shall also make no noise in the streets.

George Seacole: We will rather sleep than talk.

Dogberry: Why, you speak like an ancient and most quiet watchman, for I cannot see how sleeping should offend.
"In the old days, parents had to play interviewer when arranging their children's marriages. Times have changed. Now they choose for themselves. Parents are just facilitators at weddings these days. And some parents have no end of regret about this. But what can you do!" At that moment I thought to myself, Sir, not everyone grows a beard as a style statement—some truly can't afford to shave. I am the child of parents without regrets.
A weary traveler knocked on a door asking for shelter for the night. The homeowner opened the door and politely said, "I have a marriageable daughter in this house. Please try another home." The next two houses gave similar responses. The exhausted traveler thought, it's not right to keep bothering people by knocking on doors like this. Besides, he was getting embarrassed by the repeated rejections. Better to try a different approach. At the fourth house, he knocked and asked the homeowner, "Sir, do you have a marriageable daughter in your house?" The man was puzzled and asked, "Why?" The traveler's quick reply: "Because I want to stay the night."
Our teacher told this joke today while teaching about communication problems in class. I'd heard or seen this joke before. Wait, wasn't there a scene like this in one of Dildar's films? I can't quite remember. If anyone knows, please tell me?
I didn't feel sleepy at all in today's class. I started wondering—what's wrong? Not sleeping through class isn't in my vocabulary! Later I realized, yes, there are some people who can even change your dictionary. Without taking his class, it's hard to understand how fluently someone can teach even a dry subject like 'Research Methodology'! He teaches at medical college, meaning there's no chance he'll ever be my boss. Still, I'm praising him unreservedly. It's a sin not to praise a learned person. Sometimes we have to say our boss is 'good' even when we really don't want to, don't we? But when you actually *want* to call someone good, why shouldn't you?