Prof-anity

This semester too, I have been blessed with professors from Mars. Each one of those stand-up artistes pleads, 'Write a post on me, write a post on me.'
I must oblige.

Slot D
If you've invented the phrase 'abject insipidity' and are waiting to wrap it on a suitable situation, look no more. Insomniacs, try Dr KMM. He surpasses professional sandmen. He must have held a powerful animal magnetism in his younger days with that periodic jerk of the side of his mouth against every third syllable. The twitch does attenuate at the tip of the lip -- it goes on to shake the entire cheek on the right-hand facet of the ovoid head, lending the man a touch of erudition where it isn't. On the first day of the semester, this religiously attendance-rule-abiding instructor from the Centre for Systems and Devices uttered his first and final quip: he expanded his block's initials to Centre for Sleeping and Dreaming. When a front bencher pointed out the dying of his voice at the tail of each sentence, he replied: 'Yes, I know I have that problem. I must do something to sort it out so that we av f sz ca e..

Slot F
A rustic goat-herder passing by the lecture would drop his forked stick and scram from the place, imagining the class to be haunted. To be sure, the professor doesn't perform ghost dances, but his usage of Windows Journal to learn the class chills the spine whenever the invisible hand writes on the screen. Far from technophilia, it is the need to instruct a classroom studented by no less than 140 lads and ladies that prompts Dr Shanti Pavan to favour the tablet pen over the chalk.
Electrical engineers have got to make numerous approximations in their analyses. They learn about linear networks and applications in half their courses, yet practical systems are non-linear. The department has thus conned them, alleged Dr Pawan. But a veterinarian, he went on to add, does not educate himself on the physiques of all bestial species. The dog is the prototype and the vet-to-be masters its anatomy. Ergo, when he is called to treat an elephant, he approximates it to a dog. Nothing wrong, argues the tonge-in-cheek Dr Pavan; after all, from a certain distance the elephant looks like a dog. The electrical engineer, he concluded, must take a leaf out of the dog-doc's book.

Slot E
Decades of chewing betel has rendered this man leather-tongued. As a result, his lectures serve as a true test of endurance. You will do worse by not lip-reading him. Our this typical government bureaucrat [as Srinand put it] declared on the first day that we nine were as his sons. And he proceeded to establish it: he commended Srinand's conduct for his indecisive 'As you wish, sir', showed his appreciation for replacing his chairs, and while we were still at his office, had us sit around his table with the air of a family discussion over dinner. Remind me to ask him for pocket money.

Slot B
Dr Pattabiraman stands out from the rest of the professing crew in that he is quite down-to-mars ['I am not an expert' is his catch-line] and doesn't find time to mow his beard. Besides persistently saying 'dabba' in box's stead, the young guru hasn't developed idiosyncrasies as yet. I like him.

Slot A
This person is a member of the faculty of IIT Madras. Let me put that differently. His name is Subramanian.
He revels in targeting students. He branded me impure upon hearing my name. He stared at me batting neither eyelid for a space of fifteen seconds in the name of demonstration. The other day he called me his enemy. As a thought experiment, he launched a waveguide missile at me. He gives you an impression that his hair has grown inwards and tinkered with his cerebrum. He isn't able to clot his anecdotes. He has shared a bench with a Pakistani Nobel Laureate. He has devoured the biographies of Modern Physics' architects and itches to recite them in class. He proudly declares, 'This course is not Quantum Mechanics. It is the History of Quantum Mechanics.' Nor does he spare wisdom-pearls. When Sriram, in the context of Young's Double Slit Experiment, advanced that the fringes were found everywhere, Dr Subbu had a repartee at the ready.
'Fringes are everywhere. God is everywhere. Fringes are God.'

Slot C
I have not yet gotten to know the gentleman. He bunked three successive classes in the week that's rolled by. I saw the pattern, and, telling myself that I'd rather burn the hour in my room, gave today's C a miss. But then surprises are always behind me like wicket-keepers. This one was nasty.

Slot G
'In Punjab they play support', said Dr Shreesh Chaudhry to elucidate on the regional nature of English pronunciation. He paused before he spelt the last word: 'S-P-O-R-T'.
'And in Patna it's isport,' continued the enchanting pedagogue, 'When I go to Bihar, which is my native place, I speak to them in Engleez. They don't understand English.' It was him that asked us to make the speech I've covered in the previous post. On international accents he said: "Australians pronounce day differently. They ask, 'Did you come here to die?' And New Zealanders, when they win, say 'Chairs!' "
I confess to liking this old man. His body language pleases the eye. Each articulation is crisp. His bosom unlocks infectious optimism. He drips charm. And true to his dept., he is a Britannica on legs. I look forward to his slots.