Memories of Mysore - Day Zero

Every new year I feel like I'm getting this nice, new page to write on. There are also more and more pages of memories added to my repertoire. We're all just living, breathing books waiting to be written and read, after all.

The past four months have gone by in a blur. I have too many memories of my training at Infosys, Mysore and I can't put it all in one post, so i'm going to split it into significant bits and pieces which have stuck in my mind.

Beginning at day one or rather Day Zero, my first glimpse of the campus wasn't too clear. I was too anxious about the joining formalities, my luggage and my mind was mostly occupied with whether I had remembered to bring all my certificates. All I knew was that it was clean, ostentatiously large and did not at all look formidable. Before I knew it, I had collected an ID card on a yellow tag, the introduction kit, and my room keys and I was dropped off with my hideously large suitcase and one travel bag in front of my hostel block.

My first thought as I looked at the hostel from outside was that I had somehow amazingly landed somewhere I could fit into with no trouble. Not a common feeling with me, trust me. The hostel had large lawns, interconnecting stone pathways, a canopy of trees filtering rays of sunlight from a enamel blue sky, and no hostel warden types hanging around. Perfect.

I left my bags in my room (007!) and helped another girl lug her enormous suitcase up two flights of stairs. When I came back, I took in the room and was pretty happy about it. It had everything a hotel room usually provides you with + a stunningly gorgeous view through large glass windows.

And don't even get me started on the bathroom. All I was thinking was, 'Wow. Pinch me.' A good bathroom is vital to happiness. Where else will you day dream?

Some of the first things I learnt was that taking a bicycle on some paths was not advisable because they were all uphill. All the guards are multi-lingual and very helpful. Standing in queue at the food courts was a way of life. You could use the electric kettle in your room to boil water for your bath if the hot water's late in coming...one mug at a time. Walking was inevitable.

Also, you can see 21 year olds from the length and breadth of India. The atmosphere's young, happening and totally awesome.You can walk through the campus at 3 a.m without a care in the world and encounter couples taking walks or groups of guys sitting in the smoking zones and laughing.

Of course, this was later. I got lost on my first day. Everything looked the same and I had to get instructions from every security guard I passed. Dinner with my college mates and friends at a food court called 'Oasis' was the final act for the day.

Relatively speaking, this was one of my better first days. I didn't cry, get depressed or fake a stomach ache. All of which I did during my other memorable first days involving academia. There is hope for me after all.

Superstitions

Training's over. This seems significant now, but so did the end of school and college. I'm guessing that's kind of how life goes. An end, a beginning and a lot of crazy things in between. Then it happens again. And again. And then I blog about it.

In the past few months, I think one of the major adjustments I've had to make was interacting with people. It isn't always easy to find people you can connect with and I was never good at adapting myself to opinions and habits I don't hold with. In the process of trying to get along with people and trying to change myself, I've made a discovery. A lot of people who are clever and educated and intelligent are still superstitious.

The most prominent one I've seen is the refusal to eat meat on certain days. I've asked some of my closer friends and acquaintances why they do that, and mostly the answer is that their family has always followed it and they're used to it. One of my friends even believes that washing her hair on certain days could affect her siblings.

This is one of those situations which is like walking on thin ice for me. I'm fairly straightforward which means that I've trodden on a few toes and in a professional environment, I can't really afford to do that, can I? Of course, these people are still my peers and friends so it's alright for now, but what if I snort at the wrong moment when my manager's talking to me? (Disclaimer : still haven't got a manager, by the way. So, purely hypothetical situation.However, knowing me it's entirely plausible.)

So yeah, next time someone tells me that writing the alphabet on rice is going to make them smarter or that crows are the reincarnation of our dead grandparents, I'm going to smile and say, 'Oh?' Then I will try hard to stop myself from making a sarcastic rejoinder. And I will not snort into my milkshake.

But if you're a friend, prepare yourself for a long conversation, buddy. What else will we talk about during lunch? 

A woman like Bathsheba.

For a long time, I didn't read Thomas Hardy even though there was always a book or two lying around at home out of pure contrariness. It seemed to me that my mother only recommended books to me so that I'd get a moral out of them. The same went for Pearl S.Buck. (The reason for this wasn't just my cussedness, but also an unfounded conviction that Pearl S.Buck only wrote about poverty and other somewhat dreary topics.)

So imagine my surprise when I read a couple of  books written by these authors and really liked them. I genuinely thought that both 'Far from the Madding Crowd' and 'The Good Earth' were excellent reads.

As for Bathsheba Everdeen and Gabriel Oak, they stand in danger of becoming my temporary muse. I can't help liking Bathsheba and hoping to meet more men like Gabriel. Bathsheba especially, tells me so much about a woman who is smart, capable and beautiful, and yet innocent and fallible that I'm surprised that her feelings were described by a man putting pen to paper.

Despite all her womanly shortcomings of vanity and impetuosity, she's one of the few characters I began to love only after I read more about her. You see a young girl, confident in her own ability and beauty, thinking that she's too intelligent to make the mistakes commonly plaguing her own sex. Then she becomes a woman who throws reason to the winds, and lets herself be swept away by passion for a man who is as shallow and superficial as she is inexperienced.

After the misery of a dying love, and being wracked by doubts and a broken heart, she finally matures into a woman who has learnt that she is made of sterner stuff. As Thomas Hardy puts it,

 'She was of the stuff of which great men's mothers are made. She was indispensable to high generation, hated at tea parties, feared in shops, and loved at crises.'

My mom just gave me a copy of 'Tess of the D'urbervilles'. I'm totally going to read this one.