First Day at Mechanical Workshop

Well, actually my second, but the first one doesn't really count. And don't expect some impressive or impeccable English out of this post because first, this post is long overdue, and second, I'm kinda high right now. So forgive me if you thought this will be a thought provoking read. Its no where there!

An ex-workshop student warned me against 'that thatha guy', aka the foreman, who yells at you and makes you wet your pants for no apparent reason. I remembered I had had a not-so-pleasant encounter with him in the past, when I had visited the workshop to buy data sheets. I had loudly wondered to what use those sheets of almost plain paper would come for, and why they were making us pay for them. No, it wasn't a pleasant encounter. So you could say i wasn't particularly looking forward to workshop.

I reached workshop, an underground, intimidating and dingy place, on time, with an incomplete record, sans hacksaw blades, cellotape and steel scale. I tried not to panic and focused on the way the foreman's white, lopsided mustache danced when he spoke. After a few minutes of *something about tools*, he asked us to submit our records and sign in his register according to reg. numbers. One by one, he called us by names. Mine was still a little far off, when suddenly from the other end of the room, "WHY DIDN'T YOU BRING YOUR PEN YOU IDIOT?!!" I bet even those ominous looking tools got a fright! Then onwards, all of us carried our pens around everywhere we went. Then our metal pieces were handed over to us and tables were allotted. More like our corners of the tables. Mine was at the farthest and darkest end of the room, and I was to share it with three others.

They kept repeating over and over that mechanical workshop is nothing like any of the previous labs we had endured in the past. This involved real manual labor. The kind you see greasy handed construction workers doing. The kind you never imagined you would do.

We were asked to pick up a flat file from the array of different, similar looking instruments, which did not weigh a hundred tons like I expected it to. The lab assistant demonstrated the filing technique to us innocents- fix the metal piece on the bench vice, grip the handle of the file firm in your right hand, support it with the left on the other end and go cross over the metal. Just like how you file your nails, only on a larger scale. "There is one side which is the piled side. The other is the manupactured side. Pile the manupactured side next too the piled side. use the *some tool which is used to check for perpendicularity* and chech ip ferfendicular. Ip nat, pile gaf side till ferfendicular. Undrshtood?". I did. But he repeated it a lot of times till we were capable of filing with using just our thoughts. And he succeeded in getting me all excited about it!

I eagerly picked up my flat 'pile', fixed one of two metal pieces we were supposed to work on on the bench vice, and began filing. We were doing a 'V' joint today. And I must say, It felt good. Like REALLY good! I put all my frustrations, anger, pain on that poor metal piece. It was like a knot in my back was released. I was in a terribly good mood for three days after that! The entire workshop was filled with the pandemonium of metal screeching against metal. After a few minutes, I checked the metal piece for like the hundredth time, and realized I was done. First to finish!! Just then the lab assistant 'sir' lost patience and asked us to assemble around the table nearest to him, which just happened to be my table, and picked up a metal piece, which just happened to be mine. And then he started to colour it yellow with a dirty piece of chalk! Ouch! Now i was gonna have to do it all over again! All that hard work, down the drain! Then he proceeded to maim it a bit more. Making markings, punching holes... He fixed the metal piece on the bench vice and began cutting it along a mark, explaining god-knows-what all the while. Three millimeters and what seemed like three hundred minutes later, he asked "yaardhu idhu metal pieceu?" I managed to squeak "sir, nandu". "nimdu bari cutting maadi saaku". Was there a happier person than me at that point? I think not.=D

Metal cutting is a tedious job I tell you! And I figured out quite early that I wasn't particularly good at it. It may have been one of the funnest thing i've done till now. But if you don't have a problem with getting your hands dirty, you're doing just fine. And by dirty I mean the colour of coal tar. I'll just go ahead and say it, I broke six hacksaw blades! Corollary: I blew 28 bucks, at 7 bucks apiece. The other two were borrowed. And all it took was a puppy dog face to not get yelled at by 'that thatha guy'. It somehow works on all grown men. Guess it awakens the fatherly instinct in them. The best part was watching everyone else slog it out slowly, going one by one to do the marking and the punching while I cut with a gleeful smirk on my face. I wasn't the first to finish though, even with my big headstart. Blame the blades! And when the first piece of cut metal fell off, I was so happy, all I could do was hunt for another blade. Finally!

The sixth blade turned out to be lucky for me. I did majority of the cutting with it. When I was almost done, the lab assistant took one look at the hacksaw in my hands, snatched it and enlightened me to the fact that I had fixed it the blunt side front!! I barely started cutting with the right side front, when SNAP! The blade broke. But I did finish cutting and most of the final bit of the filing before they started to shoo us out of the place.

Sweat on my forehead, hands that looked like they had never breathed in clean air, hair looking like i had grown deadlocks, pain along my arms, legs, back, neck, abdomen, I'd still say I thoroughly enjoyed every moment of it. And should I mention how we all washed our hands with a piece of detergent soap that was blacker that our hands? I should, because I'm something of a hygiene freak, and it was a big deal for me, washing my hands with that!

At the end of those three hours, I was exhausted, hurting all over, happy and had a story to tell, of my First Day at Mechanical Workshop!

HOW TO TICK PEOPLE OFF

Leave the copy machine set to reduce 200%, extra dark, 17 inch paper, 99 copies. In the memo field of all your checks, write "for sexual favors." Specify that your drive-through order is "TO-GO." If you have a glass eye, tap on it occasionally with your pen while talking to others. Stomp on little plastic ketchup packets. Insist on keeping your car windshield wipers running in all weather conditions "to keep them tuned up." Reply to everything someone says with "that's what you think." Practice making fax and modem noises. Highlight irrelevant information in scientific papers and "cc" them to your boss. Make beeping noises when a large person backs up. Finish all your sentences with the words "in accordance with prophesy." Signal that a conversation is over by clamping your hands over your ears and grimacing. Disassemble your pen and "accidentally" flip the ink cartridge across the room. Holler random numbers while someone is counting. Adjust the tint on your TV so that all the people are green, and insist to others that you "like it that way." Staple pages in the middle of the page. Publicly investigate just how slowly you can make a croaking noise. Honk and wave to strangers. Decline to be seated at a restaurant, and simply eat their complimentary mints at the cash register. TYPE IN UPPERCASE. type only in lowercase. dont use any punctuation either Buy a large quantity of orange traffic cones and reroute whole streets. Repeat the following conversation a dozen times. "DO YOU HEAR THAT?" "What?" "Never mind, it's gone now." As much as possible, skip rather than walk. Try playing the William Tell Overture by tapping on the bottom of your chin. When nearly done, announce "No, wait, I messed it up," and repeat. Ask people what gender they are. While making presentations, occasionally bob your head like a parakeet. Sit in your front yard pointing a hair dryer at passing cars to see if they slow down. Sing along at the opera. Go to a poetry recital and ask why each poem doesn't rhyme. Ask your co-workers mysterious questions and then scribble their answers in a notebook. Mutter something about "psychological profiles."

You know you're in college when:

• Its never too late in the night to call or text a friend to tell them about something as random as a song you have been listening to, and even expect a reply!
• Its really night after 2 am.
• You find yourself craving coffee at odd hours.
• You have a long and enjoyable conversation with someone, like you've known them for ages, and realize after a month that you don't know their name! And how do you ask for it? Ask for their Facebook ID! :-D
• The person you have a crush on is not your typical Tall-Dark-Handsome-Knight-In-Shining-Armour, not even close!
• You find yourself loitering in the college campus on study holidays, because you are bored at home.
• You have a wardrobe overflowing with clothes but you end up wearing those select few dresses all the time, and complain that you don't have enough.
• You start listening to Kannada songs, and even like them! A lot!
• All those manners and etiquettes that you used back in school do not take you anywhere in college, just leave them at home and come with a Kannada accent...
• You switch languages mid-sentence and don't realize it!
• Texting in class, a formerly universally accepted offence, is no longer so.
• A day before the exam is not at all late to start studying.
• You start blogging to retain you hold on your English. I tell you people, Its hard!!