Null Hypothesis

Null Hypothesis

by

KV Arun & CN Nimal

Copyright

Copyright © 2014 KV Arun & CN Nimal

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved.

Null Hypothesis is a work of fiction. All characters appearing in this book are fictional or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

Cover design

Praveen Devassy

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Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Interval

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Epilogue

About the Authors

Prologue

There was a palpable buzz in the air. The conference room had the AC turned on to full blast but some of them were wiping the sweat off their palms. Eager, nervous anticipation was writ large on most of the faces. After all, it was not often that trainees came face to face with the head of the large conglomerate.

He walked in, his manner and dress had that casual air that belonged to either the truly successful or the completely inconsequential.

No need for formal introductions, I guess, he began, without any ceremony.

All heads had this unfair advantage of being always granted an audience. But for this man it was guaranteed even otherwise as he had a reputation for out of the box thinking and was known to, on occasion, talk sense.

I have no success mantras to offer to you. I can sprout out a lot of jargon but you will be bored in five minutes. Instead, I will tell you a story. A true story, there are lessons in it for all of you. Learn these lessons well and you might make it in life. I ought to know, I am part of the story.

Chapter 1

Ajay was a committed academician.

Meaning, he never tried to skip or cut short lecture classes, citing various reasons and never resorted to the new fangled audio visual aids. He never tried to avoid correcting answer papers and regardless of how badly they were written, always managed to find at least one correct point in each answer unlike many less committed fellow academicians. He never asked his students for personal favors and never bullied his subordinates with official requests to fill in for him ‘just this one time’. His commitment could be gauged by the fact that he never used the department computer to read personal mail.

After all this, this was what he got.

It had all started with an accursed NAAC accreditation.

Ajay had only a hazy idea of what the accreditation actually meant. All he knew was that many other educational institutes, especially his competitors, seemed to have obtained one. He did not think that the accreditation process had any relevance to him and had therefore, not thought about it one bit. He had put in quite a few extra hours (uncompensated) for a lot of unnecessary paper work involved in the application process.

It was his opinion that it was far better for his mental well being to avoid having opinions on matters that did not directly affect him. If he was forced to give an opinion, he would have hesitantly said that he believed (quite correctly) that the only real evaluation that went on in these accreditation affairs would be the quantum of money that changed hands.

That, of course, was none of his business; it was all up to the management.

The college he worked in, the Kannathal Arts and Science College was managed by a committee that reeked of tradition and conservatism. The management always played by the book and that too, a very old one. The only time he had ever seen or heard of them do anything in a hurry was nearly two decades ago. That was the day the great MGR passed away and they had to organize a hasty condolence meeting.

Therefore, Ajay’s initial assumption that the accreditation process was another of those passing clouds was not totally misplaced.

However, it was not to be.

The chairman of the trust that ran their college had never been to college and had only gone to school when he was a kid to escape the rain during the monsoon season. But he became a self made millionaire through his own efforts and other people’s money. Using this as a guiding principle, he felt that the best way to get others money legitimately was to start educational institutions. And thus was born- Kannathal educational trust of which this college was a part.

Though it was in Salem, the college was filled with Malayali students, who used Kerala brains and gulf money to gain degrees. The chairman (like all Malayalis who had made it big, he had sense enough to not start any concern in Kerala) had strategically chosen a proper Tamil sounding name to the college but was not above preferentially employing Malayalis as staff members.

Keralites were a problem as employees only as long as they were in Kerala.

The chairman had at long last, decided to hand over the reins of authority to his son. The son had not followed his father’s academic footsteps. Normally, the progeny of super rich chairmen that ran educational trusts distinguished themselves academically by flunking high school.

Not this man.

This man had not only finished school but had gone on to graduate from a proper B School, and that too in the ‘States’. The school had filled his head with a number of management theories. Worse still, he fully intended to put these theories to test. It went without saying that the faculty members were the experimental guinea pigs. Strange new words such as productivity, resource optimization and standard operating procedure started during the rounds.

He had also appointed an external organization to conduct an audit as a preface to the NAAC inspection. Who ever heard of such a thing?

I bet he never even heard of MGR, Ajay thought, bitterly.

What an audit it turned out to be. A pre pubertal girl and two boys who were yet to start shaving had gone through the college as though they were conducting a CBI raid in an opposition MP’s house.

After three days of painstaking inquiry, they had submitted their report.

And changed his life.

He was, to quote the report, short of academic merit and innovative thinking, lacked research credentials and did not provide inspirational leadership to his subordinates.

Who were they to judge him? What were their credentials? Had they seen life at all? Did they have the experience or the background to evaluate their fellow humans?

Academic merit? Had he not passed all his school exams with flying colors? Had he not been an honors student in his degree course in Botany? Who was it that had secured university third in the MSc exams? What about the M.Phil degree? He had stopped reading journals (scientific literature) only for the last eight years. Nothing of great import ever happened in such a short time.

Innovative thinking? Was it not his innovative idea to change the system of internal assessment that the students were normally subjected to? No more torturous periodic exams in the name of internal assessment, no more attendance related reduction of marks. Instead, they were now granted a cumulative mark based on a number of other factors designed to be student friendly. Did that count for nothing?

Research? What did these people know about research? Did they even have a concept of Indian sciences? He handed out such diligently prepared notes. What if they were eight years old? Only wanton detractors could call them outdated, they were that good. What about those innumerable study tours he had taken his students to have a firsthand idea of the diversity of this country’s botanical life? Was that not research? And if the students ended up learning more of human anatomy than plant diversity in these study tours, was that his fault?

As for leadership inspiration, that was something he could not understand. No one had provided any such guidance to him. He was now 34 years old and had progressed from being the junior most faculty member to becoming the second in command in his department. All of this was without any external help. So why should he play wet nurse to others?

Thus fuming, Ajay stormed out of the staff room to meet the head of his department. This head was an old professional; he could be relied upon to give good advice.

As Ajay entered the room, he could see that the Head was not in a happy frame of mind. Raman Nair was normally a cheerful man, never given to angry outbursts or ill tempered behavior. His rotund frame was a source of much amusement, a fact that he acknowledged gracefully without complaints. His cherubic face looked unusually pensive today; worry lines had creased his normally unlined forehead.

What is the matter, sir?

Ajay, he began in a low tone, sit down.

Ajay did so, feeling more than a little uneasy.

You have read the report, I presume, he began I sent it to all of you so that each of you know what exactly has been written. I have myself been severely criticized, I have to tell you. I am apparently lacking in the basic ability to run this department.

Ajay felt anger running through him.

Do we have to take these ratings seriously?

It is not so much what we think of it at all. It is what the management thinks. I’m afraid they are going through the report very carefully.

What was the need for all this? Ajay asked.

Apparently, they want to expand. That’s the new mantra, is it not; everybody looks to expand these days regardless of the nature of enterprise. So they want to run this institution professionally before they open up other such colleges. They think we could do with a more professional organization than we have right now. After all these years, 16 years as Head of this Department and these upstarts are trying to tell me what to do.

Nair had gone red in the face; the first time Ajay had seen it do so.

What about the other departments?

They have also had some things pointed out, but we have come out very badly even in comparison.

So what are we to do now, sir?

Ajay, we cannot take this too lightly. We have to do something and do it fast. Otherwise we will be neck deep in trouble when the real inspection team arrives.

But what are we to do?

I have no idea he replied we have been working to our normal university oriented pattern. It is my belief that we have been doing a good job so far. For almost twenty years we have had undergraduate and post graduate students in botany and all that is apparently meaningless. It is the new fangled microbiology department that seems to have come out the best. They have been around for what, eight years? Hardly a few years of post graduate teaching!

What is the basis of this ....?

Ah, they have a greater number of publications, I believe, a greater number of research programs. Those are what stand for good academics. Basic course curriculum teaching just does not matter anymore. I am told that they are also an organized department whatever that is supposed to be.

Ajay felt himself tighten mentally. The microbiology department was one of the newest in the college and it was the opinion of most others that it had garnered more than a fair share of its importance.

It was ever thus. Glamour was an essential ingredient of every walk of life. The unassuming hard worker stood no chance against the more glamorous glory seeker.

Ajay, Nair continued, I want you to talk to that department. See if you can come up with something that we can project during this damn inspection.

Most unlike the man to swear.

Ajay was loath to do this. He had had occasion to interact with that department and had always felt a mild sense of inadequacy when dealing with them, especially, Prof. Swapna Menon.

Do I have to?

Do you think I like doing all this? I’m afraid we have no other choice in this matter. We are likely to have the main inspection in another couple of months. By that time we have to do something. We cannot afford a report like this in the main inspection.

That was something Ajay could relate to very well.

I understand that, he replied. You know I would do anything to help. Only that Swapna...

I know that, Ajay, I don’t like the lady myself. Snotty at all times.

Again, this was uncharacteristic of the man. You would not normally hear him bad mouthing anyone. Funny, how stress brought out the worst in people. Or maybe it actually brought out the hidden inner self.

You know how it is, Ajay, I can’t entrust any of the others with this kind of a job. Meena is well meaning but she is sometimes a little too brash. She may rub her the wrong way.

Meena was the other senior staff in their department, which consisted of the Head, one professor, himself, two associate professors- Meena and Trivedi and three lecturers.

Trivedi is mature enough but is sometimes a little too deliberate.

You mean slow.

You could say that, I guess. As for the lecturers... his voice trailed off.

Ajay understood what he meant. They were, the three of them, all young and not yet experienced enough to understand the nuances of interaction that necessitated finesse. Of course, the way they conducted themselves, you wouldn’t think so. They walked around as if they were the pillars on which the college stood.

That left him, Ajay, to undertake the uncomfortable task.

Chapter 2

Swapna Menon, of the plunging neckline and the razor sharp brain, was paradox incarnate. She was attractive by any standards and made no effort to hide the fact. However, the slightest reference to it was likely to elicit a frigid response although she was not averse to employing a mildly flirtatious tone at times that suited her.

On the other hand, in her knowledge of anaerobic bacteria, especially the gut flora, she was next to none. She took her subject very seriously and disliked anyone making fun of either her academic commitment or depth of knowledge.

Who was the real Swapna-the serious academic or the frivolous flirt?

Swapna looked up when she came in, rearranged the papers that were in front of her. Her oval face was a little flushed, the big eyes dark with some emotion he could not identify.

Hello, Swapna, he began hesitantly, unsure of her mood.

Hi, Ajay, she replied, readily enough.

This encouraged Ajay to go on.

Swapna, have you gone through the report?

Oh, that, she said, in a faintly disdainful manner, they must write something, must they not?

No Swapna, they have gone through our department very critically.

Easiest thing to do, criticize something, she said dismissively.

Well, Nair sir is very upset.

So he should be.

That was typical of Swapna, seeing both sides of the argument. Somehow, that was not helpful at this