Before the defense
A memoire
-Dedicated to the memory of Prof. S. Chakravorty (1950-2025), former member of faculty at the Department of Electronics and Communication Engineering, IIT Roorkee.
Notes:
1. This is a slightly fictionalized and summarized version of the conversations that I had with Prof Chakravorty over almost fifteen years.
It was well past 6:30, I was alone in the lab. Still there was no sign of him. Had he missed the class today? No, it could not have been. The lights in his room were switched on he was in the department, which means he was taking an extended class. “Naturally,” I thought. “It is almost the end of April, last few days of the semester. It is when he will cover everything that he wanted to cover in the course. Speed be dammed.” I involuntarily sniggered at the memory of him finishing our Digital communication syllabus, and then adding with a theatrical flourish. “This covers everything that will be in your final exams. But I have also checked your mid semester exam copies, and looking at them, if there is a God, only he can help you now.” With that he had exited the classroom, slightly coughing and lighting a cigarette on his way out. Of course, Roorkee was an IIT, and smoking was banned inside the campus. But then, no polite words could be used to convey his regard for the said rule.
My train of thought was interrupted by the sound of a latch turning and a door opening somewhere in the corridor. “It must be him.” I told myself and picked up a copy of my freshly printed PhD thesis. I was right, the door was ajar and a faint smell of Gold Flake Kings was drifting through the corridor. It seemed to be the right time to show off my thesis, and the last-minute changes that I was feeling quite excited about. I knocked.
“Yes.” He growled.
I entered. His back was facing the door, he was busy, putting something on a bookshelf. I waited for my turn.
“Speak” he growled again. “Do not wait for me to face you and have an eye contact.”
“Sir, I got the printouts ready.” I spoke, unsure of whether I was disturbing him.
“What printouts?”
“The final version of the Thesis, my defense is tomorrow at 11”
“Huh?” this was not his usual angry grunt. “Achcha Ribhu!” he exclaimed. “You should have told me it was you. Sit sit, just wait a minute. Let me get this done and I will be with you.”
Two minutes later, he was sitting at his usual comfy chair lighting a Gold Flake.
“So.” His eyes twinkled, as he opened a copy. “you got the hard bound copies.”
“Yes sir. I will keep this copy with me so have made certain modifications.”
“Modifications?”
“look at the chapter beginnings.”
“Ah. This looks like the end of Chapter 1. Wait, let me first look at Chapter 2, and then will look at the other chapters.” He turned the pages.
“Weapons cleave it not, fire burns it not, water wets it not and wind drys it not. Why have you put this just in your copy, Prof Mehra (My PhD Supervisor) will be delighted to have these in his copy as well.”
“I did not know that sir”
“But how have you chosen these verses? Arbitrarily, or do these follow any order?” He scratched his beard with his free hand. At times, I had wondered how such a dense beard could be compatible with his habit of chain smoking. Would it not catch fire? As if sensing my thoughts, he stubbed his cigarette before it reached a critical point.
“In order sir, for example, this is the chapter verse for the chapter on cyclostationarity, the second order correlation that remains unaffected by AWGN….”
“…and hence the chapter on collaborative sensing has Sangchhadvam from the Rig Veda, nice”, he said turning while turning the pages. “Hiranmaye na patrena, Purnamada purnaidma for the conclusion. Wait, what is this? I have never seen it.” He paused, and read out aloud
“The Vedas with their six limbs and the knowledge of all sciences may be on one’s lips; one may possess the poetic gift and may compose fine prose and poetry; yet if one’s mind be not centred upon the lotus feet of the Guru, what then, what then, what then?”
“Achcha, this is an Adi Shankara composition, nice. Let me ask Google. Guru Ashtakam, he mumbled while typing on his ancient office desktop.”
“Here it is, eight verses to the Guru. He pointed to the screen. Alas, this is a much-misused term these days. Everyone is everyone else’s guru. Which reminds me, what became of your job applications?”
“Am yet to apply properly sir. Most IITs require a defended thesis.”
“Ah yes.” He said thoughtfully.
“So fingers crossed.” I added.
“No need to cross, the question isn’t whether you will land a teaching position, the question is, when will you land one.:
“yes sir.” I nodded slyly.
“Dekho, he continued, ek to job dhoondh lo jaldi se, aur ek shaadi kar lo. Ek hi shaadi karne ko bol raha hoon.” He added smiling.
“But” his tone took a slightly serious note. “Do remember the professional hazards of teaching.”
“Yes sir, I know, you have reminded me quite often of the adage, “He who can, does; he who cannot, teaches.” It was my turn to smile back.
“No.” His smile grew wider. “That along with the fact that you get paid to lecture and judge others are actually perks of the job.”
“yes, that is why I am so eager to join. Then what is the problem.”
“the problem is that in your eagerness to join, you are overlooking the demographic that will form a vast majority of your future students, and that demographic is not so enthused for teaching.”
“Sir, I am sorry I do not see the problem there.”
“Ah. So, let me put it this way. Why do you want to teach at an IIT?”
“Because the proportion of interested students is higher here”
“Yes. You are looking for interested students.
Now, another question, why did you drop my wireless networks course in your second semester, and took up that other course?
“Sir, you are slightly tight fisted with grading” I smiled slyly.
“Exactly, but you would define these interested students to be interested in the content of your course and not the grades, right?”
I was silent
“See am not telling you to grade loosely or tightly am just telling you to not take students’ career decisions or course choices personally.”
“I nodded, and there is this other thing about the Guru Ashtakam verse that you wrote, people interested in teaching jobs generally tend to have a highly inflated view of the respect that teachers get.”
“Don’t they?” I was getting slightly uncomfortable about my career choices.
“Some coaching teachers with good marketing skills, do but college teachers don’t, and I believe you are interested in becoming the latter.” He replied, the last few words slightly distorted by the next cigarette clenched between his teeth.
“yes sir. But coaching is all about marketing.”
“All of it is about marketing. See a coaching teacher covering difficult topics in class and being strict with grading is appreciated and if I use Gallagher’s book for digital communications, I will perhaps be hated even more”
I nodded.
“Why do you think is that?” He asked, blowing smoke like a dragon.
I shrugged.
“See, when I am teaching, I am training them to fight against me, in an exam that I will conduct and I will grade, so according to them I always have the option of making life easy for them. On the other hand, coaching waale sir, bhaiya or whatever they choose to call themselves, he is preparing them to fight against a nameless, faceless enemy. So there the adage the more you sweat in training, the less you bleed in battle is applicable. But here you and I are the enemies, and we are making them sweat in classes in bleed in grade sheets.”
“But, sir, just handing out grades wont that be unfair to the students who are actually working hard.”
“It sure will be.”
“So, what I am saying is, handing out grades is the popular solution, and teaching and grading honestly is the right solution. I never said that the right solution was the popular solution.”
Ah.
“Chalo”. He said, stubbing his cigarette again. “It is quite late. Time for me to shut shop, and time for you to possibly have one of your last meals at your hostel mess. By the way, did I tell you about the achaar waale aaloo ke paranthe that were served in Sunday breakfast when we were students?”