The Quintessential Outsider

My blog registered its 1000th hit today, after 47 days of existence. I think that is a decent pace to begin with.

Among other ‘achievements’, I am nearing 100 fans on Orkut .

Meanwhile, I now have a photoblog on Flickr. I remember I had once said that I am not into photography, but after getting a new phone with a nice camera, the temptation was too much to resist.

Today was our first mid-term exam at IGIDR. With that, our ‘induction’ here is complete, and I can safely say that I have seen enough of my new institute to be able to compare it with the previous one. I had initially thought of a point-by-point comparison between the two, but then, I didn’t see the point . So I’ll just stick to the major differences.

IGIDR is much smaller (in area AND population) and much newer than IIT, and it is exclusively a PG institution, so that accounts for a lot of the differences that may be observed on a first visit. The more important differences are, however, more subtle. Firstly, the people (esp. the staff) are nicer, but I guess that can also be explained by the small size of the place, which enables everyone to know everyone else. Still, I think the IIT academic staff can and should do a better job with their manners, whether or not they know the students personally.

Secondly, a not-so-subtle difference is the much better hostel rooms here, which are, in fact, (semi-)independent flats (independent if you cook your own food). Again, it might be argued that the small number of students allows IGIDR to provide such luxury to them, but even on an absolute scale, I think the personal space for a student at IIT is just too less.

Thirdly, there are very few students here who have their own computers, even though the Internet connectivity is as good as at IIT. Computers are used mainly for academic work (and ‘a bit’ of timepass on Orkut and Messenger ), and not for watching movies or playing LAN games. Watching movies is, in fact, a ‘community exercise’ here, at the seminar hall every Friday (there used to be similar movie screenings in the Convo at IITB, but I guess people are now satisfied with watching movies on their PCs). Thus, in general, there is much more interaction between people here. I hope this is maintained, and that IIT too finds a solution to its ‘LAN problem’ (the only ‘forward’ solution I see is the introduction of Wi-Fi throughout the campus, and a general move to laptops by the students, which will allow them to move freely instead of being stuck in their rooms).

Lastly, inspite of the small size of our batch (just 23 students in MSc + MPhil combined), there is an amazing diversity in their backgrounds. Here, I obviously cannot compare it with IIT; the point of comparison is other PG institutions, including IIMs. I believe this diversity is very important in any post-graduate program, because it enables people to learn a lot more from each other.

Now, for some ‘bad’ points about IGIDR. Firstly, even though it is supposed to be a research institute, the lure of the corporate world has made deep inroads into this place too (not everyone might agree with my classifying this as a bad point). Secondly, even though the architecture of this campus is widely appreciated (and the architect got a National Award too), in some places, it seems like he went overboard with the aesthetics and forgot about practicality . Thirdly, there is no analogue to HN out here, which means you have to go really far if you just want to ‘hang around’ (the nearby places suffice for your ‘necessary’ shopping, though).

On the whole, I am happy with my decision to come to this place. Let’s see what the future holds.

In the preface to ‘Freedom at Midnight’, Lapierre and Collins quote Lord Mountbatten’s great admiration for Mahatma Gandhi, and (besides the usual accolades to ‘The Great Soul’) for the fact that he was able to accomplish with his death what he could not achieve in his lifetime – an end to the post-Partition violence. They go on to say that from the way Mountbatten spoke about the Mahatma’s death and the consequent public reaction, it seemed to them that Mountbatten secretly wished for a similar end to his illustrious life. (A few years after the book was published, Mountbatten was assassinated by an IRA terrorist’s bomb.)

It is not unusual for people to show an outpouring of love and respect for deceased souls, whether they are great personalities or one’s friends/acquaintances/relatives. In the case of famous people, the public reaction can reach unprecedented levels, especially if the death is sudden. The effects of this can be positive or negative, depending on the principal actors involved. However, even in the case of ‘ordinary people’, death seems to accord them a status they never achieved in their lives. An example is this person who lost his life in the Mumbai train blasts.

Besides the sympathetic reactions, the (especially unnatural) death of some personal acquaintance always raises in one’s mind questions such as ‘why didn’t I spend more time with him’ or ‘why did I not keep in touch’. Needless to say, this can also result in a feeling of guilt, of being somehow responsible for whatever has happened. Alas, it is always too late!

Many years ago, in school, our English textbook had two poems on consecutive pages, facing each other, ‘Death the Leveller’ and ‘Death Be Not Proud’. To our young minds, the contrast was interesting, to say the least. We were too young to give serious thought to such stuff then. I won’t say I am old enough now, but having lost three friends in very unnatural circumstances in less than two years, things have surely changed.