It is believed that in the last few days, a couple of episodes have effected an upheaval of the digital world. One, of course, is a certain Marathi Manoos unleashing carnage on a bunch of hapless Proteas (Watch Invictus for some inspiration) and the other has been an algebraic identity – Charlie’s Conundrum, which like the P vs NP problem and the Riemann Hypothesis, has entered the gospels of the modern world. This identity stands brutally rock-solid like the Colossus of Rhodes, unwavered by the force of time and any extraneous elements.

There are a few fixations in the world which are true, elementary in nature, so outrightly obvious that we do not understand their underlying causes. Seekers of the Holy Grail are soon to add Charlie’s Conundrum to their laundry list of blistering barnacles and thundering typhoons as they attempt to unravel the mysteries of this cosmic truth. Amidst the entire hullabaloo labelled as the rat race, Charlie rides on his crest of clean sweeps; peerless and clinical in his consummations. Charlie’s all time favourite and most quoted line goes like, “I am going to make you an offer, which you cannot refuse. And I will keep doing so.”

The inside info is that Charlie will soon topple Rajnikanth and Chuck Norris to be the sole butt of all undisputed superhero jokes. A soon to be premiered print commercial of a leading beverage manufacturer targets its bifurcated market segment in this way : “Homo Sapiens – Yeh Dil Maange More. Charlie – The world Is not Enough “.

For the uninitiated, that damn identity which stereotyped the statuses of my Gtalk contact list and disrupted my mailbox courtesy of the gazillion notifications is simply put as below:

“ C > A+B  “

Let the Dhan Te Naan begin !

The Hazmat

The Hazmat, who allegedly inspired the Big Brother policy, watches over Joka with his mesmerising eyes, riding it into an interstellar overdrive, at the slightest of his whims. Death has no mercy, neither does The Hazmat. He is a dynamic aggregate of the Gemini Twins – Castor and Pollux; for The Hazmat has ceaselessly unleashed his fiendish nature upon the unforgiven mortals as well as protected those golden souls at heart, leaving everyone thoroughly dazed and confused. It is for him the bell tolls, at which the call of Ktulu spreads like wildfire; in the distance, our own Dark Knight with his 13-inch Katana, the Scourge, can be seen riding the lightning. Pleasantries exchanged, you will never even catch that elusive fleeting glimpse of me; however, my hand of doom engulfs this place like the great gig in the sky. You shudder to turn the page, fully aware that I am not just the beast under your bed, but in your closet, in your head.

An initiative of Three Wise Men, Joka management comprises of a melange of cranky homos, each exclusive in their own fashion. It has been my prerogative to put a smile on everyone’s faces, one way or the other ala the Joka(e)r. The community boasts of erudite homos whose scholarly expeditions are aided by joint efforts to combat royal challenges, reminiscent of Napoleon warring against the Romanovs while playing the bagpipes in his signature style. The aviary of the region can be segmented into – my fair ladies, devoid of any hanky panky, hailing from the classic 20^th century era and those, of the same genus as kingfishers and famous grouses, who act as advocates of the legendary Thomas Crapper.

No zombie, bloodhound, flaming volcano has dared to disrupt my reign or affect the sustenance of this paradise. On your royal arrival at the portals, allegorical to Galatasaray’s stadium, a dark and stormy hurricane will appear humming the localised strains of a certain cult ballad, “In June we came”. A cornucopia of consumables are spread out over the land, each a potent concoction of corn ’n’ oil, to be supplemented by a painkiller, barring which you could be a victim of the planter’s punch. Traversing the blue lagoons could be mnemonic of the Staten Island ferry to Long Island, picking up a few red lotuses on the way. We embrace egalite – do not differentiate between the White and Black Russians, in spite of being immersed in a sea of Red. Cognitive of becoming potential ambassadors of India Inc., we are men ‘o war in the common market with hearts of fire, aristocratic and old fashioned in times of distress, when one often cries out, “bloody Mary”.

Over the next few days, months, years (depending on my tenure at Joka), I will digitally describe our Indian summer, our blue sundays and every other roadhouse blue of life at Joka. As I look out of the balcony in my room, I see a few souls comfortably numb, a few violently orchestrating their high hopes and some others learning to fly. Like most others, the fundamental right to privacy is non existential in this compound purely due to all my pervasive senses. Your inner most secrets lie exposed, and will continue to be so as I keep rocking your heart out. Sleep tight with fright – a constant fear that someone’s always there. Signing off with a Glasgow Smile and a Last Kiss, I shall head back to my chambers to rest in peace.

-The Hazmat

P.S : Etymology of the name – Meaning hazardous, The Hazmat invoked inconceivable trepidation and distress among the inhabitants to such an extent that they never gambled to speak or laugh in front of him and constantly hushed up their friends and kin saying, ‘Has mat’ (in Hindi), ultimately evolving into the present name.

It is one of my theories –one that I have developed in the many hours of leisure that were afforded to me post the summers process (always feels nice to say that, huh), that fests are a way of prolonging your madcap childhood days. It is well known that to hold on, or to not let go, is one of the most primitive of human tendencies, and what could be more precious than some of the most cherished years of our lives. Sitting in the auditorium today listening to one of the bands performing in the Armageddon prelims, I couldn’t help getting pangs of old age when the vocalist said- “This next song is about breaking the rules. We’re all teenagers here, we’re all rebels.” Time might have put paid to the teenager in me, but the rebel continues to rule the roost. And what better place to give that rebel room than this particular weekend- Carpe Diem. You know the madness has begun when, amidst huge banners of Axe reeking of capitalistic consumerism, the performing band comes up with an insane number extolling the leftward path and draws tremendous applause from B-school students who will soon be the pillars of profit-making capitalist society.

The weekend looms large and promising in front of me, in front of all of us. Each second holds the allure of unexplored possibilities. I never thought I’d hear an amateurish name like Evil Conscience, or was it Soulful Death, once I’d left college. I never thought I’d headbang like there was no tomorrow until I heard the Unknown Artists’ guitarist. But in those 2-3 hours that I spent at the audi, I realized that I never want these festivities to end. Each step that the cute model in Razzmatazz took, each reverberation that was made by the drumset tonight, each question that will be asked at the quizzes coming up, each movement that is to be executed by the dancers, each thought that is to be articulated at the debates and each note that will be created at Symphony- they all form an indelible part of the youth that I wish had never turned 20. The coming weekend, in however unsuccessful a way, will be a sporting attempt at rejuvenating it. There’s always an occasion for one last hurrah after all.

Carpe Diem. Seize the day. And then cease it.

-MM

D. Shivkumar is IIM Calcutta’s successful man of the year. He was one the prominent alumni at the ‘Batch of 84’s Alumni re-union and has now spoken at what is surely one the highlights of “Reverberations”, Intaglio’s guest speaker series. Shivkumar chose ‘Answers in an uncertain world’ Intalgio’s theme for this year and showed us what 25 years of experience gets you – sharp insight into the business world combined with an unmatched level of articulation. Uncertainly is not risk, Shivkumar said, and harped on the point that it is uncertainty that creates opportunities for growth.   As he addressed an enthralled and packed auditorium, members of audience left with one tangible takeaway – the state of the business world today, fraught as it is with uncertainties is a huge opportunity for future business leaders; its only disguising itself as a challenge.

JokaTimes talked to some students after the keynote speech and this is what they had to say:

“I think everyone thought it was a brilliant presentation, he definitely has stage presence and that made the address even better!” – Sriram, PGP2

“One of the key things was that he spoke from an industry perspective rather than just a Nokia perspective, and that was really good” – Anand, PGP2

A bus down memory lane

When D.Shivkumar got down from the bus outside IIM Calcutta’s main gate he achieved two things. First, he relived dusty memories of old times as a student at Joka when he would take the famous Calcutta buses with batchmates. Secondly, he made a point. In supporting Intaglio’s green theme this year, Shivkumar told us that it’s never too late to change our habits. Every little drop saved, every unit of electricity conserved and every mile walked makes a difference to our world. We at Intaglio thank Shivkumar by planting a sapling in his name. You too can support Intaglio in this initiative by taking a bus to come to SBI Quizzical, Intaglio’s flagship quiz event and plant a sapling to take another small step to protecting our planet. Large, policy level decisions at the global scale take remarkable tact and determination as the Copenhagen summit has shown. But following in Shivkumar’s footsteps requires only a bus ticket!

Click here for an interview with Mr. D.  Shivakumar

JokaTimes:  Tell us something about your experiences on this bus, Baro-C, and the last time you traveled on it.

Shiv:  BaroC (12 C) being the connecting bus from Joka to the city, every time we wanted to go anywhere, we ended up taking the bus. One thing I remember very vividly about my trips is the language of the conductor. Every conductor, on every trip, would continuously and most dutifully say, “As the ladies” (meaning ‘wait for the ladies’). There would always be a discussion among commuters on Mohun Bagan vs East Bengal. If one person got down at his bus stop, there would always be someone else who’d pick up the argument from where the previous person had left off and continue with all eagerness. This meant that we spent most of our trips listening to continuous streams of discussions!

JT: How was your dreaded first term on campus? Given that it is the most loaded semester in terms of course-credits and it’s the first few months in a demanding atmosphere…

Shiv:  Well, in our days, it was slightly more relaxed. But my first term was not so pleasant for a very different reason. On my way to IIMC as a new student, I took the train from Bombay to Kolkata, and lost my entire luggage in Bihar. I even remember the new blue VIP suitcase that I’d lost! This meant that I arrived on campus with a tennis racquet, two T-shirts, and an airbag. I’d lost my documents, clothes, and every other thing of importance. I spent most of 1^st term going to and fro to the police station at Howrah in relation to the complaint! Needless to say, my suitcase still remains lost.

JT:  What were the popular sports during your time? For example, we now have our own game with specific rules called footer-volley, based on Sepak Takraw. It’s something every student gets proficient at before graduation!

Shiv:  For us, the IIMC-XLRI meet was the only time we played with anyone from outside the campus. We had a pretty strong wing-culture, and there were a lot of tournaments where one wing was pitted against another. But as a college, I’d say football was the most played game. We also played a lot of cricket, hockey and badminton. Among indoor games, Chess and carom were the most popular, and there’d always be people playing either of these games. During every IIMC-XL meet, the entire campus would be charged up and enthusiastic. We’d lost against XLRI during my first year, but made up for it handsomely in my second year!

JT: What were the different clubs and other student activities in your time?

Shiv: We really did not have the club system; it was more like interest groups. We had an extremely active quizzing team. Apart from this, there were regular music nights in which the faculty would take part with a lot of enthusiasm. And we’d have movies screened in the open air next to the badminton court. A funny thing that would happen was, every time a song came along in the movie, there’d be a group of people who’d dance enthusiastically and then would vociferously request for the song to be played again. This led to each song being played four to five times to allow them to dance to their heart’s content before the movie continued! I used to write regularly during college, I’d been the editor of the college newsletter in IIT Madras during my under-graduation, and continued it in IIMC, writing extensively for the yearbook and for the campus magazine.

JT: Given that your batch had a group of around 90 students, how were the campus dynamics?

Shiv: Yes, all of us knew each other extremely well. The campus was a peaceful secluded area with just the faculty and us. We formed a very close-knit community. The teachers took part in and conducted various quizzes for us and we’d have numerous discussions with them inside and outside of class, which constituted a large part of our learning experience.  We had three spots where discussions would generally take place. The tyre outside Ramanujam hostel would always have some people sitting on it and discussing topics across the spectrum: from Bengal politics to Keats’ poetry. Another haunt was Mihir’s dhaba right outside campus, and another was the mess. During our second year, a coffee corner was opened in campus and immediately, that became another centre for discussions! Something else that greatly aided our learning was the library. It came up in its present form during our second year, and it had an impressive collection of volumes.

JT: The library is now a peaceful place to read, rather than a source of information. Most library resources and databases are available online. We should say our visits to the library have decreased compared to your time!

Shiv:  Yes, these days a lot of things are more convenient. For example, we’d have long and very regular power-cuts during my course! But again, things were also a lot simpler then. Our placements weren’t as hectic as they are these days. The learning process would invariably accelerate during 2^nd year, with a lot of people having learnt a lot during the internship process, and hence would add a lot of value to each discussion. And then before placements we’d have a suit season, where for a princely sum of a couple of thousand rupees, we’d all get impressive suits done. This was also the time where one would feel like one was walking into a new place, what with most people suddenly getting rid of their beards and tidying up after ages to attend placements!

JT: Which was your favorite subject during your MBA?

Shiv: Marketing was definitely my favorite. Apart from that, being Calcutta, we had the strongest Economics department, and I immensely enjoyed most of my lectures.

JT: Yes, some of the professors who taught you still teach us! And we continue to be enthralled by their magic.  Economics is generally the topic of discussion or contemplation on any of the lakeside sit-outs. Oh, and wasn’t swimming in the lakes allowed in your time?

Shiv: Yes, but not many swam in the lakes anyway. With 7 lakes on campus, we spent most of our time sitting around a lake or another enjoying the view.

 

What a lovely evening” says the impeccably dressed Brandon to his friend and room-mate Philip, as he draws back the curtains to reveal the magnificent Manhattan skyline. “Pity we couldn’t have done it with the curtains open, in bright sunlight”. The “it” that Brandon describes is the cold, emotionless murder of their classmate David Kentley in their apartment. They choke the life out of David for apparently no reason, but for the thrill of getting away with the perfect murder. Thus opened the 3rd production of the Dramatics Cell of IIM Calcutta, an adaptation of Patrick Hamilton’s psychological thriller “Rope”.

The play revolves around an evening of intrigue and drama that follows, as Brandon throws a party, literally over David’s dead body, almost challenging the attendees to discover their “work of art”. The party opens with casual pleasantries among the guests – Mr. Kentley and Mrs. Atwater, the victim’s father and aunt, Ms. Janet Walker, the victim’s fiancée, Kenneth, a classmate and their former teacher, Rupert Cadell. However, when the conversation veers towards the art of murder and Nietzsche’s theory of the superman, Brandon’s sense of intellectual superiority becomes bolder. Philip, clearly the remorseful of the two perpetrators, starts acting cocky and out of character under the weight of alcohol and guilt. The plot thickens when David’s absence becomes increasingly mysterious, leaving Rupert wondering as to what exactly the two friends had done.

If the script was intriguing, the execution was simply superb. The cast, Mihir Rathod as the cold blooded Brandon, Nihansh Bhat as Philip, Himanshu Bagchi as the flippant Rupert Cadell played their roles to near perfection as they kept the audience captivated till the very end. Nihansh did justice to the role, his countenance contorted with nervousness, words dripping with remorse. Mansha Tandon was impeccable as Mrs. Atwater., delivering her lines with pompous elegance. Swati Baheti was charming as Ms. Walker, Sunil Chandrasekhar (Mr. Kentley), Mandawi Verma (Mrs. Wilson, the housekeeper) and Naresh as Kenneth, all gave the setting a touch of class.

The acting complemented with the perfect blend of lighting and the intricate care that was taken in designing the set, made it a night to remember. The selection of music was delectable and lent the occasion an air of poignant suspense. Himanshu and Mihir went about it like two thespians, one sharp yet subtle, the other, manipulative and composed. However, critical acclaim must be given to those that deserve it most– directors Naresh Krishnaswamy and Shehzad Kazi, whose efforts culminated in perhaps one of the most brilliant plays that IIM Calcutta has seen.

For Jokatimes,

Gregory Ipe

 

PS – Alfred Hitchcock (who directed the screen version of Rope) called it ‘an experiment that didn’t work out’. The experimental ending worked out by Naresh and Kazi, combined with the hours of practice the Dramatics Cell puts into each of its productions, gave Intaglio’09 the perfect start.

I’m about to answer the n-th growl of my stomach when I find myself drawn like a moth towards the huge flex in front of the tennis courts. Magnificently lit up, placed very strategically right where the road curves and with a design that is reminiscent of classic Prison Break photography- it’s a wonder how I missed it in the morning. I’m bang in front of it now, staring the sponsors face to er… logo. The list is impressive, very impressive- one that most of my friends who’d organized fests during college days would have given my arm and leg for, and then some of their own too perhaps. Intaglio, thankfully, is different from those 3-day affairs. There are no posters of telecom service providers at every nook and cranny, so that you’re never in doubt whether you’re attending a fest or a brand promotion. There are no over-zealous freshers around to swear that the budget is not a cent below 1 crore and how this is so awesome because that rival sister institute fest’s budget was 80 lacs. More thankfully, there are no cynics either, ready to brush Intaglio off as a no-event, just like Life, the Universe and Everything. This is the Asia’s biggest after all, and thankfully, we’re treating it like premier B-school students should.

A rustle, pitter patter bird drops and I’ve taken to my heels. Olympus is just days away and while I look forward to hearing the views of the best in Asia regarding the many challenges that await us, I wonder if even they will be able to do something about this particular challenge. Maybe it’s a job for the Consulting Knights then. Another must-attend event.

Back at my room, I start checking out what else lies in store over the weekend. The online build-up, which was substantial in its own right, seems to be nothing when compared to the culmination. I see Joy Bhattacharya is going to be on campus very soon, Addict promises to be a fun event and if Corporate Catalyst wants to make me an I-banker, who am I to refuse? There’s something for the less frivolous of us too- Modulus for the would-be traders, Marketplace for the marketers, State of Affairs for the Ops folks and Curiosio for, well, me (Grinch-like grin goes here).

Intaglio- 8 letters that’ll be etched on our minds over the next 3 days. 8 letters that form a word that few of us would have heard prior to coming here, but will not forget for a long long time. Rumour has it that the very first Intaglio head was exceedingly fond of his underwear and hence chose to bequeath the fest with a name that was an anagram of Langotii. A more credible rumour has it that the writer of this article was by now, getting rid of ideas and filling up lines with a demented brand of creativity.

To get some answers in this uncertain world, I turned to my goddess Wiki. Imagine my unbound joy and the strong sense of pride, when after reading the inane definitions and variations of the word, I saw:

Intaglio may also be:

• Intaglio, the annual international business school meet of the Indian Institute of Management, Calcutta

Amen to that. Intaglio 2010 Aandozzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

-MM

It is therefore fitting (symbolic would be too symbolic a word here) that one of the most sacred ceremonies at IIM Cal takes place around this season. The word itself is just perfect. It is indeed time to reminiscence, not just for the returning heroes, but also for the welcoming hordes. To look back at the time that has been and look ahead at what lies in store, while doing what you can to define it. The last week has seen 60 of our revered Elders return and take centre stage once more. They, who had left the alma mater with eyes that shone of promise and a will to scale new heights, returned to the place which gave them the gifts to do exactly that and more. A simple look at the brief snapshot of each one of them is ample testimony to their more than impressive achievements. For one memorable weekend, we watched in awe as more and more of the newsmakers of those yellow pages that are delivered to our rooms every morning filled the familiar landscape. We witnessed in wonder, the curious case of all these Benjamin Buttons as time flew backwards, putting 20-something souls into 40-something bodies. And we observed in admiration, the 25-year old camaraderie, that once defined the soul of this place and forms of which continue to do so, take shape once more and become increasingly palpable.

As we made sure that Reminiscence 2009 was a reason to remember, the symbolic season entered our thought process and we tried to get a glimpse of the next chapter. As the new year, and with it the new decade, loomed tantalizingly in the distance, we wondered what our own homecoming would be like. 25 years after we leave the portals of the land with the 7 lakes, how much of what we have taken will we be able to give back? 25 years will see us establish ourselves into the transition that is about to begin soon. We will start ahead in the rat race that the real world is supposed to be, and battle to stay ahead of the pack. There will be 2 battle-lines firmly drawn within us as well- the expanding waistline and the receding hairline, and we wonder which battle will be easier. And then the ring of yet another Blackberry brought us back to the gala night and as we saw the owner pop it away to continue his precious discussion with another of his ilk, we realized that we had some enormous shoes to fill. And then we reached for another helping of the delicious fare.

25 years later, bonfires, bulbs and our own anticipation will light up this southern suburb of Calcutta once more. Amidst deafening thumps shall we walk again on the metaphorical red-carpet and go about separating the old comfortable familiar with the new and exciting unfamiliar. Climate change might have taken place, leaving environmentalists among us bemoaning while the more athletic of us firmly strap our ice-skates on. The promising new profs of today, bright sparks in the present’s vast floodlight, will by then have become the legends that constitute the yore of Joka- the wonders that the excited newbie calls to tell his friend about, scarcely believing his luck at being taught by such distinguished academics. New and more sophisticated hostels will dot these everyday grounds, but somehow, our own hostel shall remain the best. Footer-volley will kick off again, although the legs that do so will have lost considerable agility. 25 years later, as the age divide disappears, obeying its annual custom, and we, along with the then-students, make merry along the crackling bonfire; as the young and the old revel together as the Children of IIM-C and as all worries are forgotten for one brief, yet unforgettable winter evening, the spirit of Joka shall rise once more. And its silent joy shall be audibly shared by one and all.

-MM

The case with our batch is the same as it was with the batch that was 25 years ago. But amidst all this competition and hype and hoopla around corporate life, there was another of the alums – Jasmeet Singh, who decided to follow a path of his own. Two months into corporate life, he realized that he didn’t want to serve any organization, but wanted to serve the world. Renouncing the worldly pleasures, he followed his spiritual inclinations to later become Swami Mukundananda. Swami Mukundananda has completed his B.Tech in Mechanical Engineering from IIT Delhi. All his beliefs and knowledge sessions are thus firmly grounded in logic.

We, at IIMC, were glad to attend one of his discourses when he had been on campus for the reunion of the 1984 batch. The topic of the discourse was “Spirituality for Managers”. The session began with Swamiji explaining how the world is made up of beautiful patterns right from the structure of an atom to the planetary system to the entire Universe and how our life has its own patterns and its ups and downs and how everything that happens has its purpose in the scheme of things. Then, he related this knowledge to work life and how this leap of faith, which comes through knowledge, can make life at work in uncertain times better. Then he explained the principles to leading a balanced life – one where spirituality accompanies materialism.

Swamiji’s anecdotes and stories left everyone spellbound. He answered question after question with ease. His sense of humor delighted the audience – believers and sceptics alike. His life has a message for each one of us – to follow the path less taken, the path of our dreams. The secret of happiness lies in doing that which you have always wanted to do, that which is your inner calling.

Swamiji’s life is an inspiration in itself and I leave you one of the stories that Swamiji told us, “There was a man who once saw a cocoon turning into a butterfly. Such a beautiful sight it was! The cocoon had almost completely transformed into a butterfly. But as the butterfly tried to leave its shell, it got stuck in it. It was struggling to fly out. Seeing this, the man got worried for the butterfly and cut the cocoon and separated the butterfly from the shell. But to his dismay, he realized that the butterfly would never fly again. This struggle was necessary for the butterfly to absorb the liquid from the cocoon for its wings.” We all go through our ups and downs – and they are necessary for us to grow up. The Universe is supporting you to grow. Have the leap of faith and lead a happier life!

For JokaTimes,

Shreyans Mehta

So now that we know each other, let’s talk about the matter at hand. Getting into an IIM, they say, is difficult enough, but getting out is no cakewalk either. It was keeping this in mind perhaps, that the founding fathers of our soon-to-be alma mater decided to lay the foundation stone at a spot some million kilometers away from what was then a metropolis. But a wise man has been known to remark- if Mohammed cannot go to the mountain, then the mountain must come to Mohammed. The managers decreed, the once-Metropolis agreed and Kolkata came to Joka to make the process of getting out both easy and enjoyable. Weekends amounted to double figures, Tantrics of old returned with venom and high spirits could be observed. It was somewhere along this point that we celebrated being in the City of Joy rather than a dry state. It was also somewhere along this point that the Masked Manager decided to leave low blows to the Joanie Laurers of this world.

I wish I could say that things were hunky dory, and they probably are, but being a self appointed guardian of the student community, the responsible voice of an elite fraternity etc, it becomes my duty to play the Devil’s Advocate and point out the clouds in the silver lining. Determined to take something away from the terrific nature of Joka, the powers that be conceived of a way to keep unbound celebration within imposed limits. Breaks between terms became a joke, true to the name of the place, and the entire process of beating off the exam blues, going crazy and getting the essential mental rest before the grind of the new term had to be accomplished within a week-end. Disappointed but unfazed, we managers shrug our shoulders, recall the words of the other (or was it the same) wise man who said that what cannot be cured, is not Raj Thackeray, and must be endured and hence made the most of those 48 hours.

On such a weekend, it becomes fairly impossible to tell any of the theatres in South City Mall from the lecture halls of nearly the same size. Park Street seems to become the diamond that we secretly harbour from the rest of the city. Unfortunate situations sometimes arise though, and even in the most red of states, there emerges a class difference between the blue-blooded or the haves, and the bourgeoisie. ‘Gents or Family?’ is the veiled question, ‘Are you a bunch of losers with the X and Y chromosomes equally divided or have you got substantial X-factor?’ is the undisguised one and haves stroll in, reminding us that even in this day and age, utopia is still far away. For the leftovers, things get a bit tricky. Peter’s Cat refuses to purr, Marco Polo is engrossed with King Khans and their Queens and Mocambo khush nahi hota.

Already deprived of the company of women, this particular lot turns to the only place which guarantees the best, well..’chick’en in Calcutta- KFC. Zingers, Hot and Crispy Buckets and Original Recipe helpings come to the rescue. Life, they say, is good. Finger licking good is what they forget to add.

And so begins term 3.

MM