Mode C is as much for Calvin as it is for Chaos, as much for Cool as it is for Cold, as much for Class as it is for Crass.

Mode C is a way of life, the Calvin way of life which I am so fascinated by as to keep trying to make it my own way of life. But what exactly is Calvin's way of life, you ask...and I say that there are no clear answers to this one.

I strongly believe, however, that almost all the seriously critical fundamental concepts of life, they are just the bogies under Calvin's bed that he is afraid of. Everyhting else...Miss Wormwood, Susie, Mom and Dad, and of course above all, Hobbes...aren't they all merely the means that he uses to attack these bogies?

It is nothing, therefore, but the perspective of each of these players on the stage of Calvin's dramatic life that helps him fight these bogies and move on in his own unique way...listening to all but doing only what finally makes sense to his own individuality. This is what comes closest, I guess, to the Calvin way of leading one's life...

Tuesday, May 24, 2005

A night in BED

This Sunday night, you will be in bed
but not alone and certainly not sleeping

So went the first few lines of the invitation presentation for the Kolkata alumni freshers meet. For all the appreciation and admonition of the presentation that I received directly or indirectly, thank you all the same. It was just a result of an hour of work-less training time and some use of work-unoccupied office resources. However, what was not such a small thing was the planning for the event itself. Although we did lack in so many things from the planning and execution angles, but the end result turned out to be sweet and an organized and smooth sweet at that.

B.E.D. (short for Bars Entertainment Dining) is a great place to have a party at. With a number of bars, an amazing dance floor with some sexy DJs (the fairer sex doing the honours here), lush green lawns and authentic wooden furniture in the open air restaurant with the live ghazal stage right in front, nothing could have been better. With the rains welcoming the guests who came all drenched and hoping to identify someone from IIMK pretty soon, the beginning was auspicious, to say the least. That little bit of worry that the open air garden restaurant and the ghazal thing might have to be replaced by the indoors restaurant was pulling at me a little but with the clouds clearing away to a beautiful night, all worries were laid to rest.

The first to arrive was a fresher, as expected. In time, the rest of them were there and though we fell short of nearly five people who were expected (all of them alumni, of course), the party, however, was on any day with six each of freshers and alumni making it to BED along with the three of us from the Class of 2006. As the group made its way from the waiting room in the first floor restaurant to the main disc and bar, we were greeted with shots (alcoholic and non-alcoholic). Had I been one of the invitees, I know that I would have loved this little thing and I just hope that the rest of the people did. The only thing that might have gone wrong with this was that some people (mostly freshers) did not realize that there were non-alcoholic shots arrnaged for, too and decided against the thing or went for it (the alcoholic one, at that) only after some insistence.

With the DJs in full swing and the place just beginning to warm up to a Sunday evening (it was 8 PM when we entered, pretty early from a nightclub's point of view), we were all set to rock. Rock we did, with the alumni being such a sport and making their own intro sessions pretty interesting and short but fun. When it came to the freshers, the little bit of grilling was always on. Some took nicely to it, others let their ego come in but what the heck, it is all part of the game. A mixed lot, the Kolkata fresher crowd seemed to be with a bent-on-paying dude and an escorted-quick-to-home dudette, amongst others. I am sure that as we see more of them on campus, we will be able to find out and acknowledge more of the good and bad about them.

The drinks were on and as the atmosphere became less stiff and as stories after stories of the past and present started getting thrown about, the discomfort gave way to the spirits. Fosters and Smirnoff were at their best and so were the RCs and the Bacardis. Soon (too soon), it was time to go out for dinner and after repeated calls for going out and repeated returning calls of staying just a little bit more, we finally made way to the best table in the garden restaurant, the one right next to the ghazal stage. The ghazal artists were good and the only complaint I had was that I could not show the presentations with the music on. Nevertheless, I did make the sales pitch for Backwaters after the preliminary IIMK presentation that Rohit had prepared.

Soon enough, the food was there and we were all busy chatting more with our forks and spoons than with the neighbour. Personally, I liked the spread and though it was not very varied, the taste was good and the items complemented each other. I just hope that the selection of the menu went well to the taste of the rest of the invitees, as well.

While we were busy eating, the first of the interesting things of the night happened. One of the guests who had too much to drink came on the Ghazal stage and demanded to be given the chance to sing. Left without choice, the artists gave way to the guy who made a mess of the Sur-Taal thingy and even a novice like me could point out his faults. And point out his faults we did, with shouts to stop the damn thing and claps right in the middle of a song and other typical stuff. The guy finally left the floor and came to us thanking us for our patient hearing...patient hearing indeed!

The next interesting thing in line was not bad, either. After everyone else had called it a night, I and Sandipan decided to make it to the disc and shake a leg or two...if not for anything else then probably just to compensate for the extra that we had to pay for the food (with two people dropping out even before the dinner). The music was eminently danceable and the crowd decent, too...until the 50-something and fully drunk guy started throwing himself on all and sundry on the dance floor. This was one enthu guy, whom even his relatives could not convinve enough to stay away from the floor. There were also these two women dressed in some strongly colored (typical of the red lighted places) salwar suits who were in the disc as company to two tobacco-chewing middle aged, shabbily dressed fatsos. It might just have been my prejudice playing tricks but then again, it might just have been what I thought it was.

Another stint of the Roy hospitality awaited me as I went to Sandipan's home for a second time this summer. A late night entry (even later because of the antics of Sandipan that enabled him to get the number of one PYT dancing away at BED) and the next day full of some more home cooked food made it worth all the while, as earlier. I also got to watch a nice reality show on AXN called The Contender...quite a nice concept and though most of the things looked stage managed due to some shabby editing, the thing was quite interesting if it was the reality that they actually wanted to show.

After endless days of doing nothing, work seems to have picked up the momentum and I have received access to the new system. The cards are all on the table and I just need to make sense out of them in the coming fortnight or so. Looking at the new system that I have just been given access to, and comparing it to the data and process flows of the current system that I have already prepared, the last step in my project is to do a gap analysis between the two...time to get on to it, I say!

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