THE PROJECT SCRAMBLE - II

After settling down in the room, the HoD called to a start the project presentations with a short speech:

"Today is the one and only day I will accept your projects. We have and will provide any resources for you to demonstrate your project. And each will be done within ten minutes. It is within these these ten minutes or never. And if you fail to present one, you will be stuck in this for hole for another year."

I guess I agreed with him on the 'hole'. Sitting amongst a very quiet class, I watched the project presentations begin. After half an hour, a mix of the following echoes were in my head.

"If this is a project, then I have hair on my head."

"Hah! So which website did you download that from?"

"I think you will hang around for another year."

"How can you call yourself an engineer?"

"Not even 5 minutes? Heh heh. A real small score for a real small project."

"Beeeeep. Ten minutes up."

"No wonder you didn't get placed."

"Didn't get the project? Its now or never. Get out."

"I just saw that ten minutes ago. Can't you even check if someone else downloaded the same thing?"

"We give you all the resources. And we will supply anything even now. It is YOU that is the culprit. OUT."

With such scornful remarks, our HoD sent one sullen face after the other out of the room. He was thoroughly enjoying himself, having left them underprepared and watching them underachieve. The news had just come in that the HoD was leaving on a holiday to the West Indies the next day. He would finalise the marks straight away and leave early. So that was why he was so uptight about the schedule.

Sitting amongst the others at the back, I was very fidgety about our chances of escaping today. Sure we had a couple of winners. But the way the students were being road-rolled, I just wondered.

Baksheesh, seated beside me, looked very calm and steady. All these insults out at the front didn't seem to affect him. Was there a girl beside him? No? Why was he so calm?!?

"Number thirty-seven and fifty-six", the HoD yelled. Gulp.

Baksheesh and I went to the low dias in the front. Facing the whole class can make anyone nervous. But not Baksheesh. He calmly took out the two circuits from the bag and placed them on the table.

"Sir, we have two projects today."

"Two? I th..."

"Yes. One is an instantaneous tester for AIDS and the other, a Brain to computer interface."

The room had a changed atmosphere within nanoseconds. Small murmurs spread all over the room. The HoD wasn't sure what he should do.

"Ok , start.", he said finally.

Baksheesh started, "Sir, this circuit you see here simply connects to you hand through a syringe and analyses your blood to declare whether you are HIV + or -". Some giggles surfaced in the background, presumably because Baksheesh kept saying 'you' to the HoD.

"For example, I use my friend here. Look how the green light comes on because he is free of HIV.", he said.

The pain wasn't much.The green light came on. I was 'proven' safe. It would have been a disaster had a red light flashed in front of the audience. But they all laughed.

"Explain how it works.", the HoD said.

Baksheesh then launched into a new language that he mugged on the way to college from a very fat textbook. It was probably beneath the HoD to say he didn't follow it. Actually, it was above him. The students in the back were only just coming to grips with our master plan. Well, Baksheesh's master plan.

"I don't believe this thing works. How can I be sure?", the HoD said.

"Ah, sir. We could test you." said Baksheesh. The room was filled with laughter. But it was totally risky and unnecessary.

"What is that supposed to mean?", asked the HoD threateningly.

"Well sir. I have this little sample of the HIV virus." said Baksheesh , pulling out a small bottle of a black smelly liquid and a syringe with a long needle. I didn't know he had brought these along.

"What do you mean?" , the HoD asked, still brash.

"Sir, we need the resources to demonstrate this device. You have to give us a subject to inject this and test it.", saying this Baksheesh slowly pierced the bottle and sucked the gooey liquid into the syringe.

“What do you mean ?”, the HoD asked for the third time. Its amazing how you can breath your own exhaust for so long.

“Sir, you will have to take this HIV yourself.”

"Do it to someone else.", the HoD said, warily shifting in his chair.

"Ok sir, you provide the resources. Find someone.", said Baksheesh moving the syringe around carelessly in his hand.

The game was slipping from the HoD, "Wh-why can't you feed the HIV itself?"

Baksheesh shook his head nobly, "The HIV is too weak Sir. It needs a subject to thrive and if you check with my description earlier, the circuit needs blood." he said waving the syringe menacingly. The way he said bllloooodd made even me a bit chilly.

"This is nonsense. We shall go to a hospital later and check this thing." , the HoD said.

It was my chance to chip in, "But sir, you said it was now or never".The entire room got filled with low voices of "yeah"s and "what say now"s. One particular voice clearly said "No double standards".

The HoD was thinking. He could never get anyone to be the 'subject' around here. I guess he also had to go pack for his W. Indies trip. Pushed into a corner, and almost no time left, the HoD caved.

"Er..Ok, son. Heh heh. I understand the circuit. Very novel. Keep it up. Now..what is next?", he said amidst a rising decibel of background talk.

Baksheesh turned to hold the other circuit. He whispered to me, "Son!? More like BAAP."

I tried not to laugh as he held up another circuit in the air that generated much noise in the back. Dangerous things. The room fell silent.

Baks showed a sharp, silvery, spike in the air. I said, "This plug has to go into a spine, from where it finds its way to one of your lobes. The other end goes to a PC and echoes your thoughts on the screen. For this, sir, we need a subject again."

Everyone in the room including the HoD, realised it was game, set and match. Silence reigned for a few seconds. As the secretive whispers emerged in the room again, Baks made uncomfy eye contact with the HoD. But it couldn't last. The murmurs it seemed were tugging at the HoD to say something.

Finally, the HoD shrugged. He got up and walked towards us. I saw something in his eye that showed he wasn't very angry. On the dias, he turned to the class and said, "The marks will be put up in half-an-hour. I won't be able to see anymore projects. I trust all projects have been as eye-opening as these here."

With that, the class almost erupted. Only almost, because it was so damn unlike the HoD to let someone off the leash like this, no one expected it. The HoD turned to me and Baks, "Thank you."

Half-an-hour later, the marks were put up on the notice board. Everyone got above 45 on 50. Every dude in the class came up to us and gave their profuse congrats. All of them looked at us thankfully and in admiration. Thinking back on the way the Head said thanks, it sounded like.. maybe he understood the state of college education today. Maybe he realised where the blames really need to go. Maybe the cheek with which they withdrew their offer to NGNS is striking his conscience. Maybe, the one multi-contextual word that fits here is denial of service.

On our way out of the college, I congratulated Baksheesh.

"How do you do it Baks? How?", I said, full of pride.

"Just like that." Baksheesh smiled.

"Our escapades have been just phenomenal. I'm awed. Where do you get the inspiration Baks?", I asked earnestly.

"Maybe," Baks said with a twinkle, "its your writing."

So you now know that nothing materialised from the princi's offer to NGNS. The management politely asked NGNS to "skip the exercise" and said that the principal had "clearly taken leave of his senses and may be kindly excused for the goof up". NGNS maintains that they are ready for the 'exercise' if ever the college reconsiders it.