Thought Crimes

After three very eventful years at R, which I’ve done my best to record faithfully on this URL, when I used to look back, I had only one constant regret. As far as the Dep was concerned, Lefty was an absolutely unknown entity. As far as the learned Keepers of the Dep’s Keys were concerned, I was a complete nobody. Neither a boost to the attendance register nor a blemish on its hallowed pages. Average Joe would have been in the limelight when placed next to me. While all this went well with my philosophy of peaceful co-existence, and served as a huge blessing as far as proxies were concerned, there were moments when I would long for recognition, for my name to have some memories attached to it, for even a nod in my direction recognizing my presence. Sadly, as far as the one-floor MMED went, to use the popular internet joke, in the list of Who’s Who I was the unflattering What’s That? All this might have changed however, yet I don’t think I should be celebrating.

Like any other academic omphalos, the Dep places some importance on that absolutely otiose ritual that in colloquial parlance is called the Viva. Apart from its name, the only other thing it has in common with Channel V’s first popstar band is that no one wants to hear it. When yours truly has to face the music, I am usually in excellent company. There’s the inimitable Sajji, the unflappable Shailesh and last and also the least- me. Apart from being legendary at C++, the three of us are also any examiner’s dream come true. When our turn comes, we spend the maximum amount of time in pleasantries. We wish the prof a very good morning/afternoon. He in turn wishes us an even better morning/afternoon. We take our seats. He is already seated. He shoots off the first question. One of us gives some semblance to the correct answer. He shoots of the second. We say we don’t know. He shoots the third. We say we don’t know again. The ground-rules are very firmly established. No beating about the bush. There is absolutely no attempt by either party to waste the other’s time by pretending to know more than one actually does. We believe the prof knows what he’s talking about and expect him to accept that we know very little of it. It is only a matter of time that the prof bids us a fond farewell. We bid him a fonder one and lo, another quintessential happy ending. Throughout this supposed ordeal, we are the epitome of the calm and composed. James Bond couldn’t be in better fettle when seated in his favourite Aston Martin. The results speak volumes about our competence in the aforementioned ritual. While the rest of the batch sweats and swots for the top and treads on the unfortunate bodies of those who constitute the bottom, the Three Mouse-keteers are place in that comfortable bracket- Average.

The last viva, however, saw a break from this tradition. Like the lion who demanded one animal a day in the stories of yore, the Smiling Surd and the Beer-Belly Bird decided to interrogate individually each lamb to the slaughter. Robbed of my faithful band of brothers, I could be forgiven for being a shade nervous. However, I did feign enough confidence into what I hoped would be the longest sentence I uttered when I exchanged the perfunctory pleasantries. I had no idea on what I was getting myself into.

For the benefit of the readers, all thoughts of any person have been italicized.

Smiling Surd: Well young man, what have you learned in these practicals?
Lefty: Thank God. A repeated question (Answers eloquently).
SS: Easy now. No need to be nervous. So you’ve learned this, that and the other. Sheesh. Another nervous type
Lefty: Damn. Seems I was less eloquent than I thought. Yes sir.
SS: What is the difference between “this” and “the other”?
Beer-belly Bird: I’ve been waiting a long time for my Ph.D. Let the idiot answer correctly so he makes me, i.e. his prof, look good
Research Scholar: (Snore)
Lefty: er… ummm… “This” is … and “The other” is …
BBB: noooooooooooo
SS: He makes rookie mistakes. Think carefully and answer. What is “this” and what is “the other”?
Lefty: (comprehension dawns). Oh This and The Other. They’re the same. I thought you meant That and The Other. Let him fall for it. Please.
SS: Hmmm. I think I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt this time. But better make sure he doesn’t repeat this trick, though. Yes. Yes. See you can think carefully and answer. No need to be nervous. I won’t make you answer anything. You can even write down your answer.
Lefty: Very good sir.

Now the next question ought to be understood by one and all. It was an exceedingly obvious one. Like what is five times one, where the answer is always the number itself. Or what is five times zero, where the answer is always zero. I think I’ll go with five times zero for this tale. I might or might not be the One but back then, I was closer to being Zero.

SS: Let me ask him a simple question before I move on to Big Things. What is five times zero?
Lefty: (mind racing frenetically) five times zero? Five times zero? Er. Is it two?
BBB: nooooooooo. (Kurt Cobain's "I'm not the only one" starts playing in his mind)
SS: (admirable impression of Janice) Oh. My. God. Two?
Lefty: Er. Two. No wait. It’s 2.34345.
SS: My. He’s certainly innovative. 2.34345? I’ve never heard of that. I thought the answer could only be a natural number.
Lefty: Two then. Yes. Two.
SS: Are you sure? See I won’t make you say anything. I’m not hurrying you. Take your time. Here, write down whatever you feel is correct. Five times zero is ___
Lefty: (takes the proffered pen and pad. Hands tremble. Writes down five times zero is two)
RS: (Shaken out of his somnolent reverie) Wow. He is stupid. He should become an RS.
BBB: I’ve taught this for four months without killing either him or myself?
SS: What a story to tell my wife when I get home. Now, let’s see what other students of your class think. (Consults attendance register) Call Chiraunji.
(Enter Chiraunji)
Chiraunji: What has the idiot gotten into now?
SS: Ah. Chiraunji. Tell us. What is five times zero?
Chiraunji: This has to be a trick. He couldn’t have messed this up. Zero sir.
Lefty: (comprehension dawns again) Yes sir. Zero. Anything multiplied by zero is zero. (goes on to explain, very incoherently, why anything multiplied by zero is zero)
SS: (Smiles even more widely) See I told you to take your time and answer. I didn’t press you. You wrote down what you felt was correct yourself.
Lefty: (Continues explaining, even more incoherently, why five times zero is zero)
BBB: (Furious. Livid. Apoplectic.) Mr {first name} {last name}. You know absolutely nothing about the subject. I suggest you study {some subject taught last year} thoroughly first, before you even start bothering with this one.
RS: (Snore)
SS: (Still smiling)
Lefty: Does this mean the viva is over? Guess it does. Yes sir. Sorry sir. Thank you sir.

After my dismissal, the Surd and the Bird asked Sajji to wait a bit so that they could discuss my plight in further detail. Later, the HOD came over and was shown the legendary piece of paper adorned with my erroneous handwriting. “Look what this third year student has written”. I guess the Bird resented that more than I would have. The story will probably circulate around the dep for many years to come and posterity will remember the deeds of the four-eyed Lefty who made five times zero two.

I hate viva. Vodka shots, anyone?

# posted by Saagar @ 8:13 pm