Planning the Yet-to-Be

The Winter days of your academics does much to destroy your faith in life's inevitable good sense. Though the Desiderata will tell you otherwise, and Rilke always knows best (at least poetry-wise), you can't help wondering if the heaven's hierarchies took an extra long lunch break and kinda lost track of things.

Being a Ph.D scholar in India is a singularly disheartening situation, given that there are a dime a dozen of us sitting on the back-burner hoping someone will hire us to destroy a couple of generations. This is further augmented by the confirmed fact that-- regardless of the sterling quality of your blog-- you are not the author of the most brilliant thesis ever.In such a scenario, one's unnecessarily helpful imagination tends to think of multiple possibilities, none of them reassuring. The sweaty nights are rendered clammy by visions of living in abject poverty and subsisting on banana,bread and moong dal forever. Or having to sell your books to pay rent. Or being the object of your professionally enabled friends' and family's piteous contempt. Or, worst of all, teaching English for Communication to a bunch of disinterested kids who cannot begin to discern the beauty of the language they speak (yeah, I have my priorities straight). Being an individual with some measure of initiative, one accepts the fact that perhaps a back-up plan is in order. And since a job like this one doesn't really exist, a measure of creativity may be required. While robbing a bank or marrying a rich old guy, rigging his will and then killing him, are the immediate possibilities, both these options are too run-of-the-mill to appeal. Ours is the road less taken. After all, what are we if not inventive.
And so-

Option #1:Midnight Maggi Stall

Admittedly not the most inventive idea, but it does promise returns.
It is the Murphy's Law of university food supply that the hunger pangs hit hardest when there is no food to be had. Every university will suffer from periodic food droughts where none of the usual watering-holes function. The enterprising pauper need merely wait for the window of opportunity. A basic investment of around 800 Rs would be unavoidable ( a hotplate, paper plates and 5 packets of mini maggi noodles- the cooking utensils can be appropriated), but that can be begged, borrowed or artfully extorted  from unsuspecting cronies. Sell your first plate of maggi and you are in business for life. And I have it from the best authorities that I make a mean plate of maggi (Of course the rather obvious fact that you can't really go wrong with maggi is another incentive). To truly establish the venture you would probably have to offer chai-coffee as well, but focus on the main attraction: hot soupy, goopy maggi in the dead of the night when your stomach howls at the moon. Additions to the menu can be accommodated according to returns on investment.
The pros are many- For one thing, at least 70% of the student demographic lives on the stuff, whether they like it or not. And the added joy of having someone else make the manna  renders the experience all the more enjoyable. Furthermore, a little dedicated PR work and we have every hope of becoming a campus fixture with steady clientele. All we need is a table next to an unsuspecting power supply.
However, due to the fact that the clientele is greatly made of students and similarly impoverished denizens of the University biosphere, the venture has a great chance of running into losses through extensive  bad debts. Theoretically, establishing a no-credit policy can neuter this threat. However reality functions differently in an academic environment. And we are not just talking metaphysics here. Whether you give it or not, credit will be taken. Besides this financial issue, the venture also runs the risk of legal complications in the form of eviction notices from the law-enforcing admin. While in a Hindi movie this would be the part where the loving students rally around and fight to keep the benevolent feeder-of-the-masses character in their un-rightful places, the real-life student body is a fickle lover. The mere whiff of trouble would have erstwhile champions ambling off in the opposite direction discussing Marx, Kant and rising unemployment. In this more or less confirmed situation, the hapless proprietor will be transported  back to square one- penury, coupled with the very real possibility of pressed charges.
And thus, option #1 is shelved.

Option #2: Autodriver

True, I don't know how to drive. But that will make me fit right in with the rest of the community. The autodriver-- the human equivalent of the common crow-- is the most resourceful entrepreneur there can be. From tampering with meters to make them ring up double the amount to extorting several hundreds extra claiming non-existent traffic or even the time of the day ("Amma, it's summer. It's afternoon.Pay extra " or "Amma it's night. Pay extra." or "Amma, it's just like that. Pay extra." ) the autodriving vocation seems tailor-made to make a quick buck.

Being a successful autodriver seems a fairly simple project. All that is required is tenacity and an ability to be completely obnoxious. The Author has been known to be both on occasions. The small problem of a non-existent sense of direction might be a deterrent, but extensive observation of the species has shown that whenever in doubt ask as passerby or pretend selective amnesia/ deafness. True, the returns are not quite guaranteed, considering there is always some bargaining involved. But a little heckling and a lot of aggressive posturing seems to have some effect on most people.
The initial investment is a bit steep for the student pocket. But a little research can probably find us a proprietor willing to rent out his/ her auto. Still steep, but not that bad.

While this option seems golden, the presence of rabidly territorial auto-packs makes finding a lucrative hunting ground a challenging prospect. Furthermore, the long arm of the law once again becomes a pain in the back since one (a) does not have a licence (b) doesn't have the vehicle's papers (c) doesn't have money to bribe the cops. And as anyone who's ever traveled in an auto knows, the cops hate them. Or at least pretend they do so that they can make money off the passerbys when they get embroiled in the inevitable collision. In between paying the rent for the auto and paying the reigning auto-stand alphas their cut and paying the cops their tithe, the budding entrepreneur runs the risk of returning to poverty unless she stoops to the same levels of degenerate democracy she denigrated earlier. Ah principles, the damn things!

And so ends option #2.

Option #3: Strike Extra (Kerala Specific)

This is actually a very valid employment possibility. Kerala has a thriving hartal/strike culture which demands extensive crowds for each protest; after all what's the point of protesting if there are no protesters, legitimate or otherwise. A loud voice and a adequate stamina for long distance walking  are all the qualifications required: today you yell slogans for Congress, tomorrow for SFI. All this with the the guaranteed pleasure of 500Rs and a plate of biriyani post-rally, political ideology be damned.

Of course, you will also be beaten up and/or thrown in jail interminably in the event of the inevitable lathi charge. And I am not atheletic enough to avoid escape.  Oh dear...

There goes option #3


Option # 4: Stripper
....
Nah... I don't have the legs. Or the abs. Next.

Option #5: Domestic Help (Kerala Specific)

I have it from every corner of the elongated state that good domestic help is about as rare as a scrupulous politician. And given the general rule of demand and supply and the mallu tendency to favour the working class, a conscientious domestic helper is worth her weight in gold ( and sundry electrical appliances and conveniences that she can demand in return for her services.) Since the author already has a neat disposition, the vocation seems right up her alley.

But it is unfortunately her zeal in carrying out her charge that might be a key issue here. The author runs the real risk of giving her employers a blistering earful of abuse in case of sustained levels of disgusting. Furthermore, the author's often humorous but decidedly caustic use of sarcasm may not be the best means of endearing herself to her employers. Given enough,or even not all that much, incentive she may find herself remitting  comments which can easily demolish any illusion of respect among parties. In sum, whether she likes cleaning or not, the author's innate disposition will land her back in unemployment before you can spell 'broom'.
Option#5 proves unfeasible.

Option #6: Landmark Bookstore Salesperson

Ah the joy! The comforting AC, the good music, the proximity to the food court, all those lovely books--Wait.
And there's the catch.
While working in Landmark would truly be a dream job, the simple fact that the author will definitely be perched somewhere reading rather than doing her job may put a damper on things.( For similar reasons, Option#7 Film Theatre Usherer and Option#8 Candy-store Salesperson might be colossal failures.Especially Option#7 since not only will she get too caught up in good movies, she will also do physical harm to idiots denigrating aforementioned good movies or casually assault morons who may promote really stupid movies. Think Chennai Express.) Furthermore, it is almost guaranteed that she will spend the entire paycheck on buying the books she sees around her- food and shelter be damned. Poverty will return as she wastes away in book-fueled delirium and the author, though bibliophilically euphoric, would return to square one.

So no, Option # 6, #7 and #8 can't happen. Drat.


It would seem that all the possibilities for monetary betterment are entirely unfeasible. While the creative mind balks at giving up this interesting train of thought, the sad and pragmatic truth says quite unsympathetically that all these wishy-washy imaginations are just that; wishy-washy imaginations. It would seem the only real alternative available is the successful completion of the dratted thesis. A task that I have been neglecting in favor of this blogpost. But we thrill in finding means to avoid doing what we should and instead doing whatever we feel like. Perhaps the angels hierarchies are just waiting for us to get our act together so that they can sort things out once the kiddies go in for their nap. In either case, it seems the only alternative available to doing a job is to just do it. And that's exactly what I am going to do. Just as soon as I think of a possible plan B. I am open to suggestions :)