After passing the GATE 2007 exam—in fact, securing AIR 1—I applied to the Department of Instrumentation at IISc, the Department of Aerospace at IITM, and the Nuclear Technology Department at IIT Kanpur. Honestly, I am not a supporter of competitions, even if I have been successful in one of them. The discomfort is for various reasons, the most prominent of them being that competitions hardly add any social value. The boost in my confidence came at the collective loss of confidence of the failed ones. Collectively, we stand to lose even when the competitions are fair. And in India, competitions are not fair by most standards.
The more perverse thing about the competition is the rise of objective kind of problems. Prof. H. Narayanan calls them “A, B, C, D Exams,” and I liked the very sound of this notion. The worst thing is that it only allows one not to commit more than three mistakes and has the potential to convert a regular person into one of the “three idiots” in an extremely short time. In my case, it took only 10-15 minutes. Before the results were announced, branding me as one of the 100 percentiles, I was just like any other guy. It only shows that the public is incapable of seeing talent by itself and someone has to figure out who is a genius. But such discrimination on the basis of merit is unavoidable, and unfortunately, it seems it is also very necessary. Merit is indispensable for an institute to function; merit and discrimination are two faces of the same coin. Although every society has its own rules to award merit, you cannot have merit unless you discriminate in one sense or another. Although, I’d ask whether I am perceived as a genius because I was successful in GATE or I succeeded in GATE because I am a genius?
This is also true that in the case of India, this has not been a fair practice in recent years. The rise of upper-middle-class students in IIT has been a bit troublesome. In a fair competition, at least equality of opportunity must be given. Those who have the resources to spend time in Kota concentration camps and similar centers already have an edge over those from the lower middle class or from villages. Even if they have the money, it may not necessarily translate into desired effects since the access to information and resources may be limited. Well, as far as IITs are concerned, they do not have any problem since coaching centers improve the skills of their future students. But any student who had a disadvantaged beginning has to be above average to do average.
A significant portion of students show a tremendous decline in their interest in studies, and this should not be surprising since if they were made to enroll in these programs under social pressure (the glamour, parental pressure, etc.), it is bound to happen. Pressure, glamour, or awards alone cannot sustain enthusiasm; however, they can make people make choices they are not naturally inclined for. These unfair competitions effectively block IITs from those who could have been infinitely better suited for engineering in the long term. But again, there is hardly any method available to test candidates for their long-term interests. One is forced to use classical methods and hope for the best. Now, we see a lot of students getting away without doing much of the work in their degree programs (and they still expect that grades must be good, else the professor is “harami”) and “copy-and-paste” kind of theses are being accepted in institutes, including in IIT Bombay. When I say “work in degree program,” it does not mean to do what has been told, but the “idea of scholarship” is being respected.
I was slightly amazed to find out that in 2011, most of my classmates went through coaching classes for GATE exams. Some even took a year break to do preparation. Well, what can I say? The Indian middle class has a lot of double standards. What they say, what they think, and what they do hardly have any correlation. If granting reservation to people is not valid, then spending time in coaching classes when most of the other competitors do not have resources to do so is also unethical. See End Note [1].
I took an Orkut survey which I sometimes appreciated and sometimes regretted (it was my first experience of disillusionment with social networking sites). The question asked was which branch was better, implying that I had some sort of “grading” of these programs. Most replies came with the understanding that my “grading” was “good-job” oriented, which usually means “good-money.” IIT Bombay’s Microelectronics and VLSI program was the clear winner, followed by IISc Microelectronics. I had already applied to IISc, so reapplying was not possible. Plus, I wanted to be a teacher, so TA jobs in IIT would have been a plus. I had three days left before the closing date of IITB’s application process. I printed out the form, filled it, took my picture from my library card and pasted it over, went to my department, but the HOD was missing, so I had to get his seal and sign it myself (I plead guilty); I got a Demand Draft, posted it; bought a watermelon for Rs 15; came home and ate it. I was skeptical about whether the post would reach IITB in time, since Sunday was one of the days in between. Thankfully, it did, and I got the admission.
I was assigned to Hostel 9 with a roommate. It was a bit of a surprise to be put in a shared room at the postgraduate level, but what can you do when resources are limited? Fortunately, my roommate turned out to be a pretty nice friend. He later told me, when he saw our names on the form, he thought, “Well, here we go…” with a smile. He was the first person I met who bought a computer without headphones. He didn’t like music, movies, or games.
I’d tell my Orkut friends that I had forgotten to apply at IISc in Microelectronics. They couldn’t doubt it; there was no reason. I’d give them the strangest of strange reasons, like Inter-IIT sports and blah blah. Who would tell the real thing to people? Besides, I had learned something from a movie called Chicken Run, in which an American chicken had the habit of “telling people what they like to hear.” One of my friends would say, “Tum Bombay ladkiyo ki baah se ja rahe ho naa.” (You are going to Bombay for the girls). It was too hard to argue with normal people. “Yes,” I had replied.
It had been warned by one of my Orkut buddies at that time that IIT was reserved for her B.Tech. and M.Tech. did not get that kind of treatment. In fact, there are a few blogs written by Matkas to get a proper insight, one of which is this. On the campus, it is true that M.Techs (Matka) and B.Techs (Bhatka on IITD campus, Batkas on IITB campus) do not mingle very much. And this should not be taken as a disapproving thing; there is neither any necessity nor anything wrong about it. But B.Techs generally consider M.Techs hardworking (at the same time also inferior—why didn’t they crack JEE otherwise?) as well as “give-ups,” perhaps because of their rough treatment when they discharge their TA jobs. Some of the T.A.s seem to forget their U.G. days or perhaps they also suffer from a common Indian disorder “got-power-gotta-flaunt-it.” Once, I felt like punching my T.A. who was a Ph.D. Dual Degrees (Dudda) and Matka do a lot of courses and lab-work together and there is quite a harmony among them. Initially, there could be friction, but it smooths out later. This is not to say that they are being measured equally. In fact, at the time of our orientation, our Dept. HOD (Prof. Subhasis Chaudhary) said that they (I don’t know on whose behalf he was speaking) are proud of their B.Tech students but they have seen some nice M.Techs also. Going through his profile would reveal that he got his UG from IIT.
I do not believe in IQs; I believe in enthusiasm and natural inclination. In India, and perhaps elsewhere, this common wisdom has taken deep roots. Otherwise, how would you explain that a person who cannot clear an exam in the first attempt can clear it in the second or third with a really impressive score? Does that mean that the person has suddenly become super intelligent, or does it mean that hard work always pays off? Rank only shows that you are fast. Everyone can be “deep,” but not everyone can be fast enough. So, in the long run, to master a subject, it does not matter whether you had some ranks or won some accolades, as long as you are ready to work hard and give yourself enough time. If you are ready to give yourself time and still want to become a master of some subject, I think you will end up fighting and cursing shadows. People who are always in a hurry should try semi-literate but highly rewarding professions, such as management or other likewise clerical works.
There is a very curious pattern among the Matkas. Most of them do their undergraduate (UG) studies in their home-town or home-state. Living alone and keeping the interest alive in a boring curriculum of engineering is tough, if not impossible, and given the fact that a lot of them are forced (socially or psychologically) to take up engineering, it is not surprising. Unfortunately, this is more acute in students who are naturally creative, as professional courses do not encourage creativity; you just can’t learn deeply when you have to solve a problem in three hours. In undergraduate studies, it is very important that you should not take a very puritan stand, namely, “I’ll not move on unless I understand completely”; save this attitude for a Ph.D. It is better to be safe and have some achievements. So my observation is that we do not see very creative people at the postgraduate (PG) level (exceptions are there, as always!) and in their UG studies, they are generally deprived of their creativity, if any. Being in one’s home-town also makes them very narrow-minded when it comes to handling different cultures. They tend to react rather than respond, and have stronger moralistic arguments than liberal/balanced arguments. And not to mention, doing a Master of Technology (M.Tech.) in the Indian Institute of Technology (IIT) means having a seal on your documents to climb the ladder of success—at most in markets, whether of jobs or of marriage.
A few professors—who generally lash out at undergraduate (UG) students for their lack of enthusiasm in their courses—consider UGs smarter than postgraduate (PG) students. And this perception is largely true. Unfortunately, IITs still could not find a way to retain them. Any institute which prepares its students for markets will definitely suffer from brain-drain. (PS: In IITB, they have started a dual degree program (M.Tech and Ph.D) to retain their M.Techs). Professor XYZ would tell his (irritating) M.Tech. students, “Don’t do matka-pankti; first understand and then argue.” And he has a point. But there are others who admire M.Techs for their more hard-working nature in academic courses as Swapnil told me one day, “One of my professors said in class that UG courses are a disaster. I am not going to take them.” So there is a pattern of both kinds, but in this pattern, there is also a pattern. The matka-bashers generally have their UG degree from IITs like XYZ, while the more liberal ones are from outside. Most of the professors are generally neutral. But all of them are of the view that if a UG stays here for a Master’s, and a Master’s for a Ph.D., the institute will flourish. That is to say that UGs are the best, then PGs, and then Ph.Ds. Anyway, most people come to IIT to get only one degree. UGs are, of course, technically better. They have access to good professors and much better teaching for four years.
I was a Teaching Assistant for a lab course, and most of the undergraduate (UG) students I came across became kind of friends. They’d reveal a more forthright pattern. Let me make my stand so you can be aware of my biases; I hardly liked a typical Matka company and there was a time I avoided all of them. They’d ask very narrow and boring questions. As I told you, most of them are first-time loners and make groups perhaps to kill the loneliness, and once there is grouping, individuality is gone. This is not to say the UGs do not make groups. But grouping in UGs is somewhat different because in UG, people are amenable to a very large extent. The group shapes an individual. Ask any professor and he’d tell you how hard it is to change a postgraduate (P.G.) student. That is why the true character of IITs (or any other institute for that matter) can only be reflected by its UGs in general.
Once one of my Batka friends told me that an alumnus came to hire and was lecturing the UGs about a few things and later he said, “They [IIT] do not allow us to come for placement early and later we find only M.Techs, and who wants a Matka… [pause]… No offense, I hope there is no matka here.” One of our professors would reveal in class that, “DDs do not write M.Tech on their resume; they write senior graduate student.” Seeing his disapproval of M.Techs I’d joke, “He must have caught his wife with a matka.” By the way, he is a good lecturer and his classes are not boring.
The curriculum of M.Tech is designed to fill the gap created by second-tier institutes in their undergraduate programs. This is necessary, since most of the students come from other colleges. My department has a tradition of producing high-quality research papers, usually published in IEEE. Most of these papers are the result of a team effort, which requires a labor-oriented approach with machines, something which I disliked and would go to my guide, Professor DKS, and say, “Sir, I have compatibility issues with the staff. It’s not to say they are wrong, but I have issues.” He would give advice on how to deal with people and get things done, which I rarely took, and he gave me complete freedom to do what I liked, which I never missed. It is the professors that make an institute great; its alumni are only a by-product of this process.
Being at the IIT for two years was the best thing that has happened in my life so far. I was alone and had all the time to think. Breaking away from friends is as rewarding for academic life as maintaining a long list of friends is for professional life. And after being in professional life for a year, it seemed to me that one often comes at the cost of the other. In fact, some argue that personal life also has its own conflicts with professional life.
It’s almost impossible to find a Matka, DD, or B.Tech student working on their own ideas (and shamefully, this might be true for some Ph.D. students). At best, they are dictated by professors. Ideas need free time to develop. Free time is equivalent to the time you spend in privacy. Privacy is very alien to India. In childhood, you cannot stay alone, else they will say that you have some mental problem. At home, there is no privacy. At college, this is also not possible. In fact, almost all the time you see a hostel room it is either occupied by two or more people, or empty. The only time you get students alone is during exam time, and this is the time to mug up. I wonder when they get the time to think things over and develop some of their own ideas rather than reacting to “herd-instincts.”
A widespread disease which has plagued some of the best institutes in India, most notably the Civil Services, is to glorify oneself at the cost of the institute one is supposed to serve. In the Civil Services, a civil servant can easily be seen criticizing his/her institute; almost every time to prove that they are a different pattern (the Armed Forces have been a pleasing exception). I have seen that some of the students of almost every institute are now showing symptoms of this. They sometimes claim that all the badness in them is caused by the institute but at the same time show very little or no enthusiasm to improve the situation. This is not to say that these people do not suffer. It seems that Indians tend to glorify themselves rather than building up the institutes they are part of. For a nation, the greatness of an individual is not as valuable as the greatness of an institute, for individual greatness dies with oneself but an institute lives on to make a few more great people. Had Nehru done the same, we could never have had the working institutes as we have now. Now, it becomes our (somewhat sacred) duty to make our institutes better rather than using them for personal gain.
IITs are getting much more crowded these days. Intimacy is lost between professors and their students. For undergraduates, it is not a very big concern since most of the things taught at this level are generic, but for Master’s and Ph.D. students, this could be a valuable loss. However, this does not make an issue among them, as long as the market is able to consume them. All is well… It is a reasonably good place to build a scholarship, but one should learn to un-group in advance before making up their mind to join any institute. And if some of you can drop your utility point of view about education at home, IITB will be very fortunate to have you; otherwise, it would be otherwise. The choice is yours. We hope to see you on the campus.
The pinnacle of competitions, IITs/IIMs know very well in advance how many students will come from Delhi, how many from Kota, how many from Bombay… Sanil M. N., an alumnus of the University of Hyderabad, has information to share: “According to journalist S. Anand, ‘ironically enough, some of the beneficiaries of reservation in education were the Brahmins. In Madras Presidency College, the British Administration noted that most natives (only upper caste at that time) failed to clear the final examinations in second division (40% marks at that time). To ensure that more candidates passed, a third division (33% marks) was introduced in the mid-nineteenth century.’ Now the descendants of these incompetent upper caste who benefitted from initial reservation today celebrate the value of merit, while attempting to deprive Dalit students of such reservations.” In spirit, he is not wrong. In letter, he could be, since reservation is not relaxation of marks. The anti-reservation stand is very selfish. A state like Tamil Nadu has a long history of giving reservation (69%, before Mandal II). One could have expected that in Chennai, you would see the same kind of opposition that we saw at AIIMS. It was the most mindless agitation I have ever seen. In Tamil Nadu, the difference between General and ST category marks was as low as 10% in 2005. This difference has vanished between General and OBC a long time ago. It does not matter now. My advice to upper caste dudes and dudettes is “stop cribbing and start living!”
PS: Please note that I do not modify this blog any longer except for grammar and spelling mistakes. Some of my views have changed over time. Please consider it as a reflection of a Matka at that time.
