by Ruskin Bond
There was a new element added in the recent past. In the wisdom of some of those who governed, a sculpture was placed between the front row of pillars and the water. It was a huge structure, a piling of some roughly cut stone discs. By itself it was not repulsive, but it was grossly out of place. It stood in disharmony with the immediate surroundings, particularly with the streamlined pillars just behind it. There was revulsion among almost all those who watched it installed. Time had made it somewhat bearable. Day in and day out the tanks, the fountains, and the sculpture existed, each contributing its share of pollution, and perhaps helplessly pleading for sympathy and attention.
Virendra looked straight down, the area just in front of him between the catwalk horizontal and the main building itself. This fairly large area contained a miserable collection of shrubs and trees, and one could ask why it was not kept a bit clean. At this time of the year there was practically no grass on this unwatered ground. A brick-layered path crossed the lower part of the area at an angle going straight to the right cutting the catwalk that came out from the main building. On both sides of this path stood a series of bougainvillea shrubs, pruned to random heights and sizes betraying a glaring lack of care. Some even grew oversized and the leaves were uniformly dirty from accumulation of dust and dirt.
Further up left and next to the doorway of the building one could see two large circular patches of ash. Those were remnants of waste paper and documents which were periodically burned by some persons from the offices downstairs. From time to time one noticed strewn paper in that area drifting in the air, sometimes acts of burning, and right now the ashy smudges. To the right of this area was a sort of largish mound; it stood as a testimonial that someone had tried to landscape that area. On the mound there was a yellow neria odorum tree, a pulmelia champa, and an assortment of unkempt shrubs. Between the mound and the catwalk was a fairly large patch of ground on which elephant grass had grown; it was nearly eight feet tall now. How this grass came here no one knew, but no less strange was the fact that it was allowed to grow now for several months; the indifference was of such a level that everybody walked past it, but nobody seemed to care and do anything about it. Behind those trees and shrubs, quite in defiant contrast, stood an amaltas tree, now in full bloom of brilliant yellow – there were practically no olive green leaves visible. Amaltas, like several other flowering trees on the campus remained green almost the entire year, and looking at it any other time one could not say how it looked when in full bloom. There were a couple of streets on the campus which were lined by only amaltas; those streets were gorgeous chrome at this time of the year.
To the right side of the catwalk that joined the main building with the one between the library and the western building was a clear space, but only a small triangular part was visible from where Virendra stood. It was mostly paved with brickwork. From that side there was an access to the main building with a staircase that went all the way to the sixth floor. During class hours one could see a stack of bicycles in front of the staircase. That route was used by many to get to the lecture hall complex from the main building. One got off the staircase, walked across that area, got on to the catwalk through a set of stairs and walked straight to the halls. During change of classes the students streamed along the catwalks and those paths; from this height and distance their course resembled disciplined movement of ants as in ant trails. But now the academic session was over, and most of the students were away except the graduate students who were engaged in research.
The students constituted the heartbeat of this technical university. In fact, this was true of any university. Without the faculty, the presence of the students would be futile, but even with the best collection of faculty a place without students was like a corpse – even so in this place where the student community was rather quiet and had a special quality. The quality was motivation towards high achievement. They entered through some excruciatingly difficult tests, they waded through mountainous academic material the years they stayed here, leisure and pleasures were few and mostly when they were through. Yet after the initial familiarisation time, which they took to comprehend the technique of how to grapple with the system, which in a way was highly robotic, they learnt how to handle it with ease. By then they had got used to digesting abominable food in the hostels, rising above frustrations from in many cases hopelessly inadequate laboratory facilities, and by and large feeling indifferent to what the dons had to say.
In fact, there was more. Quite deep in the future plans of most of the students was the hope of going abroad, mostly to North America, when the studies here were over. Every year a quarter of the best succeeded in that endeavour, and this added fillip to the efforts of the next batch. Over the years unwritten patterns and procedures had evolved, and the knowhow was handed down by the seniors to the juniors. The involvement was not overtly emphatic, it acted mostly as an underlying refrain. During the four years of undergraduate studies, the first two core years went in combating a difficult and ruthless system. At the end of it, rough rankings got established, after which regardless of whatever happened in the professional year courses the grade point average hardly changed. Quite ironically, the time of professional training, which could be a time of great excitement, turned out to be a time to coast, and a time to look towards distant horizons. For nearly half the class, it was the beginning of a time for examinations to take, correspondences to enter into, applications to submit, and then wait. it was a long process. This also was the time to take professional courses, get exposed to and be immersed in material that would stay with one the entire lifetime. The final year was more like a long exercise in getting out – undergoing professional projects. For a few it provided the pleasure of creating something out of little tangible; with a lot of the intangible intellect that had grown immensely during the past four years it presented the first test of the prowess of a training; but for a large number it was another one of the processes that one was required to go through before one could be granted a degree, a stamp that would ensure a decent job, a comfortable life, and for the insistent and unsatisfied, a passport for further formal education. And for all, it was a time for passage through the boundaries of this sanctuary, for all time to come. Despite the drudgery one was drowned in during the sojourn through here, one would only look back at it nostalgically.
Those who did not get to go abroad got good jobs even before they graduated. A large number of companies appeared on the campus for interviewing the students with more jobs than there were real candidates for. Many students bagged several offers, and naturally could not join all of them; some went abroad and had to turn down offers at a later date. As a result much of the recruitment effort went to waste. One company came with the clever idea of offering the entire class an open invitation to join, and then waited at leisure to welcome whoever finally responded. But all the students, from the best to the worst, went through the ritualistic exercise of appearing before a potential employer, whatever the final outcome might be.
It was a delightful sight to watch them wait for interviews in front of some hall of campus, well dressed, and in casual groups. Whatever its genesis, the students and the faculty on this campus were generally casually, or rather badly, dressed. It was entertaining to watch the first year students appearing with shiny new shoes bought by parents as they sent their wards to higher education. Within weeks the local style of wearing Hawaiian sandals—rubber sole and blue rubber bands—took over. This then continued for the entire duration of the stay, and it was not uncommon to see a weather-beaten senior wearing one sandal with a blue strap and the other with a green strap – not by choice but by contingency. So it was amusing to see the same band of young men well-shaven and in suits; one almost did not realise that that tall boy with unkempt hair who used to ask the nuttiest questions in class was actually so handsome. Not everyone possessed a suit to wear, so they were passed on from one group to the next to impress the same board of interviewers. Virendra used to know Vasud
evan, an aeronautical engineering undergraduate, who at some point of time decided to stay on the campus for some extra time. Through unkempt beard, hair, and dress, he acquired mastery over complex software defying his departmental dons who wanted more attention from him to winged structures. At some stage, when finances became difficult, he started making stereo amplifier units for less capable hostel residents with advance payments and necessarily late deliveries. Years later when Virendra saw Vasudevan in Bombay, then in a substantial job with impeccable white shirt, dark suit, and shiny shoes, Virendra burst out laughing; soon Vasudevan joined in.
Among the students who did undergraduate studies here few returned for graduate work; in fact, practically none did. Quite a few went for formal management or business administration studies because of the lucrative executive jobs that lay ahead. The bulk of them joined industrial concerns in some technical capacity but soon moved up to become executives; very few entered and continued in the slow-moving and much less paying design and development jobs. And this was engendered by the fact that there were very few engineering concerns in the country which did their own design work to any meaningful extent; a large number of them manufactured goods under licence from some bigger companies and not too infrequently from foreign companies. The latter varieties did not have any need for design engineers; their requirement was amply satisfied by technical people who could just oversee that everything ran smoothly.
In recent years a group of undergraduates had found that it was a clever strategy to enter the Master's programme here while they prepared for the national civil service examinations. They knew this place and the people thoroughly; the university had an excellent library, one could hardly ask for more. These students had their own timetables like the undergraduates who applied for admission abroad; there was a time to attend classes, there was a time to skip them to prepare for the examinations – all streamlined. If one made the highest ranking in the national civil service examination, one was at the top of the world; one then abandoned the Master's programme. If one failed, one at least had a higher technical degree. Students were ahead of the faculty and the administration; the latter took some time to understand the strategy. Then there was reaction. It was even discussed whether formal steps should be taken to stop this apparent abuse of an academic facility. But it was almost impossible to pin the students down. In the entrance examination, they were at the top of the list; one could not fairly refuse them admission. And their earlier preparation was so much superior to the rest of the students who came from elsewhere that even after remaining absent in half the classes in a semester, they were frequently among the best in final course examinations. And when they made it to top of the civil service list, despite the uneasy feeling of many that the university had been taken for a ride, everyone up to the vice-chancellor felt good and proud. It was said that by now so many of them were there, that they had their own alumni club. So, this stream would continue to flow through here for a while.
The flux of incoming students to the graduate programme was mostly from other universities. Two decades ago there was a time when the innate intellectual level of these students was high, the number of applicants was also high, and there was a stiff competition to get in. But the times had changed. There was a drastic drop in the quality of the students who were now coming in, and the number of applicants had shrunk. While the Master's programme remained barely functional, in several engineering departments it was an occasion when there was a really good applicant for the doctoral programme. While this was partly a reflection on the global situation where there was a general unwillingness to go for a higher degree in preference to a well-paid easily-available job, the effect it caused to the university research programme was deleterious. There were several departments where the doctoral programme practically wound up.
Science departments were less affected as it was relatively more difficult even for the good quality students to get jobs immediately after graduation. Still the situation was alarming. If high standards were enforced in admission then there would be no students. But faculty research activity was so intrinsically linked with the availability of student assistance that there was an intense pressure to admit. If admission were to be made at any cost then there was an unavoidable erosion of standard, which was now happening in many departments. Further, the problem was not over with the admission process. The sub-standard student could not pass his comprehensive examinations, so one continued to lower the standard until he made it. Compromise was made also with a substandard thesis, and finally in the doctoral oral examination when he was unable to answer a single question asked by the external examiner, after some ominous quiet or reproach from the embarrassed supervisor he was declared passed amidst the backdrop of a contrived applause. Such occurrences were getting more common. Virendra had at times thought of giving up research in view of the situation, but he had not been able to do so thus far. Every time he thought that it was the last time. The level of his present students was just acceptable, and personally they were all very likeable.
In tune with the times and surroundings, most in the faculty would probably agree in despair that it would be good to do away with research altogether rather than retain a facade and chase a wild bird. But besides the fact that this technical university was formally created to promote excellence in both teaching and research, the possibility of research was a major reason why a lot of the faculty members were initially attracted to this place. So, despite the dilemma and desperation, in the heart of hearts such a resolution, regardless of how reasonable it might be, did not find spontaneous faculty concurrence.
If the students had a strange brand of their own, so did the faculty of this technical university. Virendra was convinced of this one Sunday morning when he had to wait for several hours at the telephone booth near the main academic area gate in the hope of making a call to another city. He was astonished to see so many of the faculty members visiting on a Sunday morning for short-time or long-time work, some already bathed, neatly dressed, and some in kurta and pyjama, most of them merrily biking in and out. He had never realised before that such a large number of them mixed their holiday with that much work. Even in a university atmosphere this was rare.
Most of the faculty had their professional training abroad, chiefly in the western countries, and the stays were mostly for several years. Virendra was among the few whose main education was in this country; he went abroad only for a short period for training. Almost all of those who returned from abroad and joined this university two decades ago had job offers to stay abroad, but they decided to return home and try to persevere here. Besides the family ties, there was an element of patriotism in those young men, and that provided a strange homogeneity to the milieu – settling abroad for a position, facility, or money somehow did not attract them enough. During those days the average age of the faculty in this university was thirty, today it had reached fifty, every year it increased by one year. In many ways this was the dominant group which influenced every sphere of academic activity in the university, and probably also set a style for the future. Intensely individualistic, they were often extremely self-centred to support and promote their own activity or that of a close professional discipline. Yet, in spite of these negative tendencies, some had professional capabilities equal to the best in the world. Also, despite the individualistic and sometimes petty controversies, they were disposed to a sense of higher order of harmony, as a result of which this place, in spite of all the difficulties, was academically livable.
Unlike most universities in the country, in the wisdom of the founding fathers, the faculty was involved in every decision-making and administrative work of the university. This served in both the extreme ways. The faculty did not have to subserviently kneel down to the non-academic officialdom as was the case in many other universities; but for that reason, the faculty had to act out strange roles, from its own peon to its own professor – arguably more of the former than the latter. And a bothersome
outcome of this was the existence of a large array of committees, which one could neither accept nor reject. A positive aspect of the place, on the other side, was the irreverent obliteration of academic hierarchy; a young lecturer here did not know how it felt to stand up when an assistant professor entered, and the latter when a professor showed up – a practice that was still respectfully carried on in many traditional universities in the country.
Transcending the departmental boundaries the faculty offices were sufficiently intermixed; there was a large number of undergraduate courses in which faculty members from several departments participated with equal responsibilities, so it was not uncommon that one had more friends in another department than in one's own. What made the faculty take the teaching so seriously, particularly the undergraduate core courses, was difficult to say – most probably the early set-up. There was still enthusiasm in it besides a certain clocklike precision with which the programmes ran. Classes were not missed; examinations, grading, and declaration of results took place absolutely timely, almost a phenomenon in contrast to many academic institutions in the country where uncertainty reigned. Of course the quality of teaching went through ups and downs, but there was an informal monitoring. There was sometimes quiet and sometimes violent self-criticism, but undeniably there existed an infectious desire to adopt a do-it-well attitude. The details of those processes were complicated, but all those showed signs of life.