12B

There was a time when a typical Agraharam raised boy (aka me) went through growing pains. Something any boy his age should go through no doubt, but being raised in a very conservative family posed a set of unique challenges.

When we finished 10th standard (sophomore year in high school if those US readers are expecting a translation), the craze among students was to attend IIT coaching classes. The regular curriculum was a challenge in itself, but the majority of the kids seemed to be signing up for online, offline, inline and way out of line coaching classes for Physics, Mathematics and Chemistry for the Indian Institute of Technology Joint Entrance Exam.

There were many reputed College professors and independent tutors who specialized in doing this extra curricular coaching with various success rates and unofficial rankings and had waiting lists to join their coaching classes. Rumor had it that at some point the top seeded "Balu Sir" had a wait list that went for four years or that was the joke. By the time you got into his class and got through the IIT JEE, your friends would have graduated from the IIT!

Well, I was fortunate enough to go meet Balu Sir at his house with my grandfather. Still remember it vividly where grandpa took me with him and when we reached the house, got a big "taambalam" (metal plate) out of his bag, placed a bunch of fruits, some other auspicious stuff and asked me to hand it to Balu Sir and do a Namaskaram.

They had a conversation after asking me to leave the room. Next thing I know, I am in! Must have been impressed with my gobi sandana pottu and "abivadhaye" and my puppy dog look and said "why not?" or my grandfather impressed the teacher more than me, which was most likely the reason.

Grandpa knew a thing or two about making teachers happy and between him and Balu Sir, they taught me how to do that for the rest of my life. Years later my sister learned Physics from him and he apparently told his class "Sundararaman your brother, was the example for implicit obedience!".

The easy part was getting into the class. The difficult part was getting to the class. How could a boy who has no bicycle, no bicycling experience (other than riding friends bikes without knowledge of relatives), no experience in going from Mandaiveli to Mambalam by bus alone in late hours go to this class.

"No way!" said grandma.

"Over my dead body.Never!" said Mom.

"How dare you?" said the rest of the family to grandpa..

Look at the local news today "boy on cycle killed by head on collision with truck in purasaiwakkam" said my uncle and it looked like the whole IIT coaching thing would have to be forgotten.

Grandpa did not lose hope. He decided to get me a cycle first. Like those ballroom dancing movies where a star dancer displays a total lack of co-ordination in the early part of the movie only to win the championship in the climax, I started showing rapid progress in my cycling abilities around the street and my family seemed to be genuinely amused by my amazing skill progression. Still, the trip from Mandaiveli to Mambalam was ruled out..

Too many boys dying in bicycle accidents reported in the Hindu newspapers local section! IIT Math coaching classes would have helped me prove that as a percentage of boys riding bikes on truck infested roads, the deaths were miniscule, but considering there was only one of me for the family, any logic attempting to explain it with math would have been useless with the "thaikulam".

In current parlance I was in effect, what would be referred to mockingly as "vayasu payyan", without a moustache!

Literally had to roll on the floor and throw a tantrum to get a plan back in action for attending the class. My grandpa knew how much this meant to me. Did not know what attending an IIT was or anything more about IIT's. Had been to the campus a few times and that was it. Did not know engineering from anything else either. It was peer pressure to show that I could also sit with cyclostyled sheets of questions and do problems from Resnick and Halliday that got me going? But grandpa understood that this was his grandson trying to make a statement!

So he lobbied for me and declared "We always have 12B and 12C. Drops him right outside the cemetary on St. Mary's road and he should be here in no time". Even took me with him to the class location for a dry run on the public bus. We went around the same time as the class was supposed to happen and that is where I caught a lucky break.

The 12B did not show up on time! After waiting and waiting we finally got back home at 10:00PM. The family was worried. How was this "ulagam theriyaadha vayasu payyan" (young and naive boy) to go do this trip by himself ?!

Grandpa, the genius, suggested that I go with a bunch of friends on my bicycle. One chap had to cross our house to go and come back, so it would be convenient for us to go ride together. He vouched for me and backed me till the rest of the family agreed to it. To this day very grateful that he did.

No one knows what is in store for them when they are young. Life takes you places. Experiences open your mind or close your mind to other experiences. One thing leads to another and you get to the present!

A delayed 12B, a friend who had been raised in Liberia as a child agreeing to cycle with me, an entire family of people who had never been on an airplane who agreed that Liberia friend trumps 12B, a long forgotten world from a long time ago...

For the longest time was wondering if this happened only to me.. apparently not! Was at a friends place over the weekend when we found that he had a similar experience with his family. There are other boys who had curfew when it came to going on PTC buses after dark! Almost reached out and hugged him..

Now that makes me feel great, decades after all this happened!

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Crazy sparks a thought

San called me to watch Crazy Mohan on "Coffee with Anu", on her laptop. He was hilarious as usual. We grew up in the same area. We used to live across the cemetary and he was a few houses away. Their gang would be watching us play cricket while they had their discussions.

A funny thing he said in the program was about how his entire joint family decided which group he should choose in Engineering college.

That brought back memories of my own dreaded IIT-JEE counciling session. My mom and dad were there right behind me. Given a choice, twenty other people would have piled on to decide what group "sundaram" should choose.

If you are one of those kids who is independent and has been raised to know the world better when you are 16 or 17, the councilling session would be a piece of cake. If you happen to be one of those "agraharam types", who has never made a phone call in your life, never reserved a railway ticket, etc., this councilling session where you decide which IIT you go to and what branch of engineering you pursue, can be quite an ordeal, especially if your parents are there right behind you, every step of the way!

I love my parents.(that was a big "period" if you got my drift!)

The professor at the councilling session hands me a form, explains the rules and says, you fill your choices and we tell you where you go based on what all the other guys above you have chosen!

My parents ask him "We want him to stay in Madras? What group will he get in Madras?" to which the Professor explains "He will get Naval Architecture"

The parents are shocked!

What the hell is Naval architecture? We dont want our son studying female anatomy, especially in an architectural context! Then they realize that it has to do with the Navy and start asking if this has anything to do with the defense department.

There is the worry about guns being involved, you know!

Then a comment somewhere about "we dont want him going on ships. they probably only give fish to eat on ships" etc. etc. We did not raise a vegetarian boy to go on ships. How will he survive? etc. etc.

I could have bet money that not a single person in our family had ever been on a ship and the entire collective experience of the family, when it came to ships was restricted to making "kappals" out of the standard 192 page notebooks to float in stagnant rainwater in and around the Sringery Mutt Road. The only exception being an aunt, who would make what was called a "kaththi kappal", a ship with a knife edge. At least if that aunt had raised the question of defense, ship etc. she would have been vindicated!

So there went Naval Architecture. Not that I would have liked it anyways, but the rest of the IIT locations and the merits and demerits of various engineering disciplines were analyzed much along the same lines.

What they wanted, I would not get, and what I would get, they would analyze it to death. The professor found the whole thing amusing, not because of the questions, but because he told me that this was nothing new. Apparently there were lots of kids in my shoes at the IIT Madras counciling sessions! He had this look on his face which said "God works in mysterious ways!".

Finally we must have filled in the entire form from beginning to end! "There is no harm in choosing everything possible in the order of choice" agreed the Professor. If your choices are limited to around 60 combinations out of 500, you fill in the sixty, or maybe another 40 combinations which you might just get or miss, provided someone else screws up on their choice list. Not all 500!

Filled out the form till no group was left out in any location! The ordering was adjusted, more when it came to locations and groups I was likely to get! The professor who was rapidly training my parents in the art of picking groups, was enjoying all this immensely. If I protested, he would lecture me on how I should be listening to my parents, as they knew what is best for me!

Finally made it out of that place in one piece, after half a day of form filling. I made some friends that day in those four hours who are still by buddies to date! That was the big plus. Things have changed a lot over the years, based on what I hear.

If you are someone who is going to counciling, and have just visited the temple just before going to the session and your face is painted in the tricolor, NO, not the saffron, white, green -Indian tricolor, not the red white and blue American tricolor but the Gray, Red and Yellow - Temple tricolor! composed of Vibuthi, Kumkum and Sandalwood paste, and you could prompt Avvai patti to start singing "Gnana pazhaththai pizhindhu...." impromptu by just taking a quick look at you, worry not! Just come to me for advice.

There are plenty of people before you, who went through this ordeal and are living to tell the tale!

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