Territorial PSings

May 25, 2011

Territorial PSings

In the first semester of my second year in college, I did a certain course called Principles of Management.

Indeed, no other course has made me so ponder so much about life as this course did. It raised questions like "Why are we here?","Where did we come from?","Where do we go when we die?". Of course, not to mention the obvious questions like, "Why the **&^% &%$& does a math-comp sci student have to study the principles of management in college."

studying POM

At that crucial juncture in my life, I thought, nothing could possibly be more pointless than this.

But then, the best private engineering college in India has a way of taking you by the scruff of your neck and thrusting you, face first, into a jacuzzi of belief-changing liquid, that ... well, changes your beliefs about things.

And that is exactly what PS-1 did to me.

metaphorical passage of time. You can click here if you want. But do return.

Textiles and Machinery Company Limited, also known as Texmaco Ltd., is where I am to spend the next couple of months of my life, working, for my PS-1 and thus fulfilling my duties as an obedient BITSian.

As the name suggests, Texmaco was initially conceived to be a harmonious amalgamation of textiles and machinery. But what it looks like now, it's as if Ms Textiles pulled a Rachel Greene and ran off from the wedding alter, leaving Mr Machinery all alone. So what we have here is a huge, seemingly endless factory with humongous machines working all around. Smoke bellowing from huge electric arc furnaces. Enormous electromagnetic cranes lifting piles of iron.

And three computer science students, precariously balanced on the fine line separating sophomore from junior, having no clue what to do.

territorial PSings. I attribute the title of this post to the Nirvana classic. After all, with programs such as this in college, what other than attaining Nirvana can we aim for? More on that later.

So. Good thing is, I'm in my own city, in Calcutta and the factory isn't a bad place. The work going on around is mighty impressive. People are nice. Have a good friend as work colleague.The co-instructor is a senior and a good friend too. There's free food on offer (In fact, that was the one definitive directive we were given. Whatever you do, you must have lunch here.) It's just the pointlessness of the whole thing that baffles me.

But I'm happy. I've been getting news from my other friends, and many of them have a lot more to crib about. There's someone in Bhadrawati who lacks the amenities to flush his own crap down the toilet. There are a couple in Hyd who are working with ear canal instruments. There is someone in Mumbai who is (or rather was) sitting in the same place from 9 am to 5 pm and getting breakfast and lunch some 20 times over :P There's yet another innocent soul who is stuck in Chennai, and is completely at sea when it comes to telling the rickshaw driver where to go to. And not to forget, the ones who are completely absconding, possibly in and around regions of Maoist insurgencies.

Here's a few-waitforit-memes to help you understand my point better. Did I say 'poin't? Oh. Well there's one at least.