An interesting piece mainly because it is the first reference I have found of an IIT more particularly IIT Kharagpur, in fiction. Does this mean we have finally come of age?

Jai Krishna's graduation portrait from the second class of India's first law school (Calcutta University, 1859) displays the expected Victorian gravitas and none of the eager confidence of his classmates. He is a young man of twenty who looks forty; his thick, dark eyebrows form an unbroken bar, and his shadow of a mustache—an inversion of prevailing style that favored elaborately curled and wax-tipped mustaches—reveal a young man more eloquent with a disapproving frown than with his words.

For ten years I kept the graduation photo of Bishwapriya Chatterjee, my husband?lt;b>Indian Institute of Technology, Kharagpur</b>—on our nightstand. Last icon before falling asleep, first worshipful image of the morning. The countries, the apartments, the houses all changed, but the portrait remained. He had that eagerness, and a confident smile that promised substantial earnings. It lured my father into marriage negotiations, and it earned my not unenthusiastic acceptance of him as husband. A very predictable, very successful marriage negotiation. 

Last Updated On 07/07/2006

Hail Kind & Brave Reader,

The facts are:

Name: Sashi

Passions: Poetry. You may attempt to decipher the others by scanning through my scribbles.

Key purpose of Buoy:A Poetry Archive (see the Big Book of Poetry) for myself, and yes, my (mostly) incohate writing.

Copyright Issues: Most poems have been copied from elsewhere(books, web etc) for personal use. You may do the same from here except for the gems written by me. I will haunt your ass if you steal those.

Email: walkonwater78 at yahoo dot com for comments, queries, flames, offers of an island paradise etc. Good poems are always welcome. Being a quasi Buddhist, sorry, I can't SAVE you for Jesus. You will have to work out your own salvation. The email address is an inside joke.

Enjoy the show.

Thank you.

PS: Here is the customary mugshot. If you must need more dirt, visual or otherwise, on me, here is ze Friendster-thingy

a very miraculous thing just happened: my beerbottle flipped over backwards and landed on its bottom on the floor, and I have set it upon the table to foam down, but the photos were not so lucky today and there is a small slit along the leather of my left shoe, but it's all very simple: we cannot acquire too much: there are laws we know nothing of, all manner of nudges set us to burning or freezing; what sets the blackbird in the cat's mouth is not for us to say, or why some men are jailed like pet squirrels while others nuzzle in enormous breasts through endless nights - this is the task and the terror, and we are not taught why. still, it's lucky the bottle landed straightside up, and although I have one of wine and one of whiskey, this foretells, somehow, a good night, and perhaps tomorrow my nose will be longer: new shoes, less rain, more poems.