The Assistance of All & Sundry: Or, How It All Began

Being a student trying to complete her under-graduation at the eponymous Pig Sty, it becomes a necessary part of our curriculum to complete 2 months of an internship at any company of our choice. Suffice to say, that statement is ridden with loopholes (the problems with this system are better explained here).

However, there are those of us who try to make the most of our (cough) experience here, and hence make an attempt at securing a good internship. One such person was Boltu. She was under the (mistaken) impression that our great and most prosperous institution had the resources to help sincerely interested students, and that if one were to express such interest as previously described, one may use those resources to further one's interests. Hence the introduction of The Sundry to our story.

Sundry (who is dealt with in mesmerizing detail here) happens to be in charge of what is perhaps the most malfunctioning machination of the erudite and scholarly administrators of Pig Sty as an essential part of its infrastructure - The Placement Cell. The purpose of this (largely dysfunctional and bureaucratic) hybrid body is to obtain corporate placements for us final year students, so that we may step into the dark and unexplored territory of The Working World. If you wish to see a paragon of exceptional mismanagement and utter failure to achieve set objectives, step right up, folks! That's how bad it actually is. However, back when the events being described here were unfolding like that most marvelous and fragrant of all flowers, Rafflesia (the comparison to an endoparasite being relevant on many levels), we actually believed that this was the only properly functioning wing of this most beauteous of institutions, Pig Sty.

To get back on track (the author can exposit volumes upon the various virtues of Pig Sty, but the purpose of this blog has been defined towards greater achievements), believing that heading a highly successful placement cell would have left Sundry with valuable experience that could prove useful in obtaining internship placements, Boltu in one of her less-prided moments in her life so far approached The Sundry for assistance. Mark this, my readers, for it is an event of much importance, resulting in the creation of an indelible mark upon both our consciences (and our CVs).

Sundry in her usual fashion responded to Boltu after a short period, stating that she had secured her a position that was {begin dispensation of useless platitudes;} a great honour, providing invaluable experience, unparalleled exposure and highly competitive compensation. {/end;;} Boltu, obviously excited by the sounds of this opportunity (back then, she was a highly impressionable and guillible believer of Pig Sty's propaganda - we've all been there), pounced upon it eagerly and questioned Sundry as to the company and the location.

Only after many "That place, ma,"s and "That only,"s did Boltu truly realize the various difficulties to be associated with this expedition - for that was what it was, an expedition into the great unknowns, a trip into the lesser-known parts of this great city, an excursion into: Huttambakkam.

The only condition: she had to rope in another poor, believing soul that was (in Sundry's words) sincere to her work, motivated, ambitious and interested. In other words: equally gullible. I don't need to spell out who she turned to.

You see, we, Boltu and myself, had a long history spanning two very significant portions of our lives at Pig Sty - the IDE and the SLC: code words for "more crap from another department" and "crap we piled on ourselves". Having waded through that much of crap together, and already having prior experience at 'naming' The Toilet Cleaner and The Sundry, it was natural that Boltu thought of Yours Truly to accompany her on this momentous foray into Hutambakkam. Yours Truly, being the naive, gullible little goldfish she is, with brains that couldn't keep up with a fruit fly, leaped eagerly at the wonderful opportunity she was being given. Surely, this was what she would look back on later and say, That was why it was worth enduring the stench of Pig Sty for 3 years? Surely, this would be a valuable bullet point on her CV? Surely, this would change her life for the better?

Verily this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add - surely, it did. Not.

Next edition: The Reconnaissance Mission.