[Reader-list] B Grade Engineering College Culture

[Nalin Mathur]

B - Grade Engineering College Culture / Fifth Posting / Nalin N. Mathur

A Gastronomic Expedition

I read it somewhere that good food ends with good talk. It makes a lot of
sense to me, albeit with a twist, because during my days at hostel it was
only good talk which made the food good. Believe me, had it not been for an
interesting company, I would have taken the word 'mess' literally. Let me
say it for all my batch mates and it may not be an exaggeration, if I say it
for all engineers who have had the experience of dining in a mess, that we
all are something of a food voyeur. Let me go back in time to tell you how
it all began.

The only worry my parents had on getting me admitted to a hostel was about
my eating habits. Grossly underweight that I am, people conclude that I have
poor eating habits. Since this fact is true, my parents naturally knew it. I
nursed grudges against leafy vegetables and preferred to eat at road side
stalls and small joints over a high end club of which my father is a member.
Mathura, known for its dairy products, provided my parents with a false
belief that I will soon do a reverse Bridget Jones. It might be interesting
to add, to my credit, that I weighed exactly the same after four years of
hard work as I did during class twelfth.

It was true that Mathura had some amazingly good vegetarian joints and I
visited them frequently. But indeed that place had higher powers. Much like
Lord Krishna's antics, which remain scientifically unexplained, the quality
of the same food deteriorated many folds once inside the college campus. The
mithai which tasted awesome in the city used to become chewing gumish in the
mess. The mystery remains unsolved. I cannot recall if it was bidis or
general goodwill which brought me and my group of friends in direct touch
with the cooks of our mess. Along with this friendship came many intangible
benefits - excess of everything found way to our rooms. Hence, I and some
like minded friends began looking for other places to eat. Over a period of
time, voyeurs that we already were, we also became food voyeurs.

On a broader scale as well, I realized that the net profits of the
neighborhood dhaba / hotel or any other eating joint often sums up to the
combined profits of the nearest liquor shop and cinema hall. The popularity
of such dhabas is immense. Even when giants like McDonalds, Pizza Hut and
Café Coffee Day opened shop these dhabas retained their patrons. I knew an
era of food voyeurism had begun when such eating joints also constructed
rooms for rent within their premises. It became a heaven for students who
were either expelled from hostel or shifted their accommodation there in
search for privacy. And people like me who loved to party on other people's
money often spend almost all lazy Sunday afternoons lying in some friend's
room making best use of playing cards and getting food 'home delivered'. If
I were to create a case study about the evolution of eating habits these
roadside dhabas would play a pivotal role in that.

Back in the hostel, handling of the mess was another ball game. The mess was
usually run on a no-profit-no-loss basis. From purchasing to waste
management to deciding the menus, everything was decided by a committee
consisting of students themselves. This authority and responsibility
provided a major political angle in the running of the system. A democratic
nation that we are, the selection for this mess committee, understandably,
was through election. And if you haven't been living on Pluto, you would
know what is meant by elections – of any sort – in the Indian Heartland.
Various vote bank strategies were put to use, persuasion and threats were
the order of the day. For someone new to the ways of the world, it was the
most effective crash course. And for nobodys like me it was yet another
anecdote to share.
Regards.
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