Engifest

'Some mothers do have 'em'. An engineering son, that is (or a technical daughter for that matter, to be politically correct). And when the cumulative progeny of a million DCE mothers decide 'this is enough, enough is enough!', it's time to show the world what we stand for, and a lot else besides. Prove our point so to say, hit the nail on the head and drive a few more into the coffin. What coffin? Well, the one which contains the corpses of all those godamn worn-out stereotypical clichês, the brunt of which has been borne for decades by others of our brethren. Let us tear off the shackles, unburden ourselves and show off our beautiful bare bodies. Okay, okay......... I take that back (I just imagined all of us naked for an instant).

Back to square one, what do we do? Well, have a festival like every college does, only don't stop at that. Evolve the concept of a college bash further, taking it a few steps ahead. And boy, do we manage to screw it up (oops!). Actually, we jive it up right here with Engifest. That's the name, that's the creed. We have all been everywhere.......... through countless Jams, quizzes, hard-sells, god-forbid, even rave-sessions......... and clinging unto all of us is an abiding and contagious flavour of anti-establishmentism, an almost discernible whiff, you know, something that 'smell like teen-spirit'(sorry, Nirvana).Our festival therefore has a decidedly adolescent pathos. Sniff into the air, you can feel it. This is puberty, man. Hormones, yes, virility, yes, potency, yes. This is an instant pleasure thing going on, almost as if a land-mine is just waiting to burst into our faces. No-one's running away, and neither are there any smart-alecs tinkering around trying to defuse the bomb. What's a bomb, after all? Just a bunch of fortune-crackers going off all together, banners and band-players. In DCE we create our own destinies, we wire our own circuits, even solder our own tooth-enamel smiles. And it sticks well.

Engifest is a Jan-Feb thing. Most other festivals have come and gone, like custom-made robots in a quality control defect-testing lab. Ours is a tin-soldier with a heart. It may clank and clatter at times (lack of lubrication) but at the end of it all, we've won more hearts than you'd imagine, pinned unto us, like in Oz. Incredible! We start at the end of a financial year when the multi-nationals are feeling stingy. We strut our cute butts around, primal carnality in display, people get wind of it, word-of-mouth, a Ghost-to-Ghost hookup, or just plain poster campaigning. By which time, probably all we have are a few Chelsea jeans that we could give away to the best dancer, whatever. What is our marketing team waiting for? What is going on? But when it stops trickling, it pours, not coffers full of coins, but respectable amounts that lead to respectable event management. And then, we go beyond the money and the gloss and the glamour. From now on, it's hard work, sincerity, and spirit......... check out how Engifest97 was organised.

This is a threshold period for most of us, a make-or-break time......... yes, different motivations exist, priorities vary from individual to individual. College spirit exists, yes......... but sometimes it may just be the lure of the limelight that bursts the crackers tied to the tail. Or it could be pretentious altruism. Or zealous workoholism. But let us not get into the nitty-gritty of individualistic experiences. Ultimately the largeness of the festival in its entirety, the long sleepless nights, the poop and the bounce, get to us. We belong together, this is ours. And it works!