FOUR STROKES (Part 1)

Inspired by the machines and the engines, we gathered to etch our own place in the history books. And if nothing else, we’ve at least left our names on the desks of our classrooms. At the end of the 4 years we have gone through the full cycle: The strokes of Suction, Compression, Power and Exhaust! And although we’re ready for the next cycle, its time to take a look back.

The first year: Suction

Some of us were ‘Mech by choice’, others ‘Mech by chance’. However, all distinctions dissolved in July 2007 as we were sucked in to form what was branded M1.

Of course, the mechanical instincts had to wait a little longer to shine, as the first semester courses dealt democratically with all the branches. The spirit of democracy continued in the Chemistry class, where the fate of many compounds were decided purely by the vote of confidence (Those in favor of the motion say I , say I , yes the I’s have it, yes the I’s have it! The bond is passed!!). Other villains included the smiling assassin, who stuck out his teeth and executed us, while his counterpart from the tronixs department never smiled. She fliff-floffed when told that her class was over, but regained her composure by the time the grades came out.

Euler became an instant hero among a select few as his stories pervaded math classes like never before. Classes perked up further with the replacement teacher Ms. Tom-and-Jerry, but that was no reason for attendance figures to go up.

The impetus to remove the ‘Roadblocks to proper communication’ was lost when we realized we had to call Tas as Muz. Tuz and sent us back to the “British zamana”. Thus Professional Communication taught us engineers children the value of proper communication, while KJ was elevated to the status of spouse.

Introduction to engineering graphics was something new, but SVK’s determination to project the drawings in our brains with models and figures was remarkable. Most of us thought the water bottle would also be used as a teaching aid, but it just watered his hump.

We toiled hard to get the little hunks of metal ‘ferfectly ferfendicular’ but to no avail. Yet, we went to The Great Man, to listen to the obviously made up stories which were utter bogus facts at the workshop, and for the much adored female instructor.

The 2^nd semester math course began rather on a silent note and eventually became a TV series playing on mute. This saw a drop in attendance, but on paper things were just right! The physics classes aimed at teaching us modern physical science, but suddenly jumped to moral science and also included topics about the long past golden era of KREC. We bridged the gap across the highway with a lot of resistance, though some of us showed a lot of capacity for it. Eventually, we were inducted into the grade cards with good grades. The fledgling steps into the nuts and bolts of mechanical were taking during this semester, with a specially designed course for us split between the senior-most and junior-most faculty (read slowest-speaking and fastest-speaking faculty).

The comps class brought forth the best in the mischief mongers, with intricately designed flying machines and wardrobe malfunctions keeping us engaged in their monkey business. Not to say that the faculty was soft on the errant students, they were punished by ‘Stand up on the bench, I say!’ Baaasu almost hit the perfect 10, but physics lab failed to hit the resonant note.