It all started with my decision of interning at CLW, one of the 'finest' manufacturing units of the Indian Railways. And thus began my 'mis'adventures.One day at the place, and the infrastructure forced me to stay at Asansol, a full 1 hour's ride in rickety old buses, on a pot-holed road. In fact it is pretty surprising how the regulars on this route manage to retain the shape and number of their bones!
Other than the extreme boredom, total lack of energy among the workers, the fiery heat and sense of wasting one's time when one can put it to better use, interning at CLW can be a nice experience. Chittaranjan is actually a decent place to go around, and a small tourist destination, as long as you can put up with the elements( man-made and god-made alike). And no need to take the "No Photographs Allowed" posters too seriously-- the authorities don't.
However, the worst part about the whole exercise, I feel, has got nothing to do with the infrastructure(i.e, the lack of it) or the heat. It is the way people take their work. I mean, if everybody were lackadaisical and escapist, one could still just write the place off as one moving to the doom, and be done with it. But when you see certain people, who love their work, know their stuff, are helpful in general, and are hopeful that CLW would actually be what it claims to be today-- our collective pride, then it hurts. It is quite clear that all we have done is to convince these people that their contribution does not matter, their talents are not required, and in general their dedication is best kicked out. But when you see, that in spite of all this, they are working to the best of their abilities, holding out against all odds, and in general doing what they are supposed to do( quite a rarity, really), you feel ashamed. Irrespective of who you are and what you are doing, you feel ashamed.
Quite a memorable trip, really.
