Incidentally

No INCIDENT happens, has happened and despairingly will happen without an acrimonious incident, or two. Incident is like a swashbuckling bashful party that the rich kid around the corner of the street throws once in a while. It's loud, obnoxious, derlirious, heavily intoxicating, but you have to go because he's got the best booze, the best chicks and the wildest dramatics in town.
No party jives up without interesting characters with their interesting antiques. This party has its fair share of interesting characters, if not an overdose.
The locos are the decent chaps in the party, who'd print the invitations, and who'd come to the party dressed in elegant formals seated quietly, engaged in conversation and light-hearted laughter in an inconspicuous corner of the room. They'd ask the DJ to tone down the music. They’d have an eye on their watch wanting to attend the following morning's classes.
The mallus are the uninhibited lot, subject of public outcry, who'd headbang to a Kannada song, who'd not give a damn if anybody's watching. The elegant locos would smirk at the mallus antiques and would at best describe them as obnoxious. The mallus would only be encouraged by the comments.
The tams would have their eyes on the girls from the first instant. They'd neither be too loud, nor too docile. They'd slowly, but steadily mingle with everyone in the party, giving the girls a very personable and amiable impression. Before anyone would notice they'd be at the girls table trying to work their magic.
The biharis and the mps would arrive in a big bunch, already slightly intoxicated, swanking their big numbers, bustling everyone on the dance floor. They'd moan if the DJ played any English score, and go wild on the dance floor for every bashful Hindi number.
The Bangalore guys would arrive at the party singly, dressed in a jersey and jeans, not acknowledging each other, giving a condescending attitude to everyone around. They'd drink quietly at the bar counter discussing what Liverpool did wrong, and how tool has redefined contemporary progressive rock.
The Manipal hips would want to make their presence felt. They'd arrive in thunderous bikes and enviable cars. They are like the neighborhood kids, like the close buddies of the rich kid whose organizing the party, wanting to see what the big fuss is all about. They'd drink and dance like there's no tomorrow and would pass out halfway through the party. The locos would help them get back to their homes after they pass out.
The Nit girls are like the homely girls who would have been the eye-catchers of the evening had it not been for the neighborhood Manipal chicks. They'd arrive in one big group quietly dispersing in separate parts of the room, some mingling with the tams, some cozying up to the Dasas, some trying a drink or two for the first time.
The Dasas are like the people who would groove into the party early, experienced at animal partying; dancing, drinking, talking and sharing. They'd brighten up the party by introducing limbo dancing, absolutely striking a chord with everyone. They'd be neither too drunk, nor too sober, nor too classy, nor too wild.
The NKs are like the guys who'd head straight to the dance floor. They'd trash the place; bully the DJ to play songs they like, dancing wildly, and drinking straight from the bottle. They'd make sure the rich kid runs out of whisky. People in the party would not instantly take to them, but they'd be the self-proclaimed bouncers, man-handling people who'd cause a ruckus. If it weren't for them, the Manipal kids would have vomited all over the place. They’d see what limbo dancing is for the first time, and by 4 in the morning they'd have mastered it, beating even the Dasas who'd introduced them to it in the first place.
The Incident party is one which is misgiving, overwhelming and yet admittedly very entertaining. The hangover stays for at least a week, the one party that is a one stop for all that is exciting and delirious.
There is stiff competition each year for who organizes the party, elected by their ilk and peers. They say that, if you want to get a friend in politics, get a dog. Politics is downright ugly, devious, and abominable to say the least. You may like it, you may hate it, but you definitely cannot ignore it. Perhaps, for the first time, a politician with breasts gets elected. Let’s hope this party doesn’t see any blood on the dance floor.

What's the fuss about?

Scene: Junior and Senior meet up in NC.

Clueless Junior: Hey. Wassup? Not to be seen these days. What’s keeping your hair grey?
Know-it-all Senior: Engi work maga. Just a month away. Gotta justify all those election results.
Junior: That much eh? How does this whole thing work-the engi thing? Whose doing all the work? Most of us first years sitting here are clueless how things are working out the way they do?
Senior: Ah. The perplexed factions of engineer. It’s simple really. The aam bhola bhala junta elect CRs to get classes cancelled and do grunt work for the class. This CR is a wily little man though. He aspires for power. Various facets of election politics come into force and all CRs vote for a man they think is able enough to be the convenor of Engineer. Of course, personal gains may or may not masquerade their judgement. The convenor agreeable to all is thus elected.
Junior: Oh. I see. What about the rest of the guys?
Senior: This convenor guy mindfully elects coordinators. These tech club guys socialize and mingle a lot with others of their ilk. They are very good at that. . They claim to know whose best for what. They end up recommending people who’ve they’ve worked with for the job, mostly club people.
Junior: What do these guys do? These co-ords.
Senior: All these co-ords form the elite engi core, people envied for their fortunes, but peers know it’s no piece of cake. They form further committees for distribution of work, and the pyramid just builds up, layer after layer, very similar to our very own parliament. But it’s a little more disciplined, you see. Every committee then elects a convenor. All these cons report to the engi core.
Junior: So these guys supervise work right? Who’s lifting the benches and rolling the carpet?
Senior: Ah. Now you’ve come to the most important set of people. Juniors – volunteers, who are made to believe they are tiny idiots, but end up doing major chunk of the grunt work. They do it for free food coupons and end up checking out some chicks from Manipal. But these are the guys running around. Plus they get a chance to get a glance of the real deal, get to know their seniors and how things work, and very importantly how not things work.
Junior: Oh. Nice. Oh. So these clubs have a major role to play in all this?
Senior: Without a doubt. You barely find guys working for engi not in any tech club.
Junior: What sort of work is done in these committees?
Senior: Hospitality guys look after guests. Lucky ones get to stay in the Guest house. That’s the real deal. Office is where all the registrations happen, where the pretty girls sit at the events desk. All Dept. committees, technites, techspeak various other committees do what their roles are.
Junior: That’s a lot of people. If so many guys are organizing, who’s participating?
Senior: It’s the enthu brainy guys who participate in robotics kind of events. The good people end up with their Wallets and Resumes updated. Then there are several mindless fun events too which don’t expect lot of tech expertise. Lucky ones do manage to win quite a lump sum, and end up spending more than what they’ve earned on gluttonous jobless duds sitting back in the hostels. And you’ll always find people from local colleges and IITs seeking to stamp their superiority. Its healthy competition.
Junior: Nice. So this whole thing is for and by the students. Neat.
Senior: Yes. It sure is. But half the college goes home for engi, view it as a time when probability for a surprise quiz is the least and buzz off. Some of them take it as a chance to spend their time in other worlds, if you know what I mean. It’s a crazy time. It gives a chance to pursue whatever shit you’re interested in, unwind and have fun basically while you learn, that’s if you want to.
Junior: K. Just for curiosity. Which is the most sort after committee?
Senior: It depends on your interests maga. Nevertheless its Technites or Office; where the who’s who are, the flashy bunch. But it’s nothing like it sounds, or…. maybe it is. Nevertheless, you do what you think is best suited for you, something in which you think you can learn.
Junior: What committee you in?
Senior: Press. That’s where you end up asking whose who and you get a free rein to trip on anyone and anything, being able to go around from event to event looking important and purposeful, and coming off as incredibly witty and intelligent at the end of it all.
Senior: I forgot a very important aspect of engi, the follow-up treats, innumerable in number. Sometimes you don’t even realize who’s treating you. You just revel in the celebrations.
Junior: Good one. Anyway, so you think you can jug me into any committee?
Senior: errr... err... Gotta go. See ya.

Engineer Trivia:
National Sport of Engi – Mafia
And the award goes to…. The best con of engi for the last 6 yrs is the ISTE con
On the night Engi gets over, a mega all-con treat is witnessed in GB, the more fancied GB that is.
Hospitality committee work starts at early 5 in the morning or late 5 in the night, whichever way you see it.
Engineer is only one of the 2 times girls are seen at 12 in the night.