Prof. Naveen Kumar

As I have promised, I am bringing the sixth episode of my nine-episode satire series that begins the OTT style saga: “The Vice Chancellor Who Could Never Be Professor”—nine episodes, each peeling back another layer of absurdity from a university that redefined excellence as outsourcing and governance as WhatsApp administration.

Disclaimer: This is a purely imaginary satire. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, place or institutions is entirely coincidental and unintended. This is the work of fiction.

🎬 Episode 6: “The Self-Obsessed VC: And the Postpone University”

The Vice Chancellor of Lotus University was a man who, in truth, had never been considered fit even for a junior faculty post at the Lotus University. He had a résumé so light it could be mistaken for a visiting card. But thanks to the clout of an immediate family member, he parachuted into the VC’s chair at Lotus University. Yet, seated on the throne of borrowed power, he behaved as if he could silence anyone with a snap of his fingers.

At his last private institution, mutiny was routine — his authority challenged more often than the cafeteria’s hygiene. That insecurity blossomed into vanity when he arrived at Lotus University. Within weeks, he proclaimed: “Every board, banner, and flyer must carry my photo.”

Quantum physics seminars, ethics workshops, even lost and found notices for slippers bore his face. Posters of him smiling, smirking, squinting, and looking vaguely confused plastered every wall. Students joked that “Fire Exit” signs and even the “Toilet Closed” signs would soon feature his portrait . The campus became a gallery of his expressions, but nowhere did his name appear where it mattered — in research journals or academic citations. Students whispered that Lotus University had become a “billboard university,” scholarship eclipsed by his selfies.

Drunk on arrogance, he picked fights with multiple upright faculty members — scholars who refused to bow to his unlawful oral diktats. Among them stood a true sage: an internationally acclaimed scientist, the very architect who had built Lotus University from scratch with untiring effort. The VC mistook dignity for weakness. He thought: “I am the god of this university. Who can challenge me?”
The VC launched his attacks with oral orders, petty memos, fact finding committees while sycophantic courtiers clapping in the background. He expected submission. But arrogance blinded him. He failed to see that provoking scholars of such stature was like a reckless power emboldened by its allies, poking a rival it thought was weak — only to discover that the rival was backed by deeper strength, alliances, and moral authority.

This was not just a campus quarrel. It mirrored the kind of provocation and entanglement the world is witnessing today — where arrogance leads to miscalculation, and miscalculation leads to traps from which escape is nearly impossible.

The faculty sage did not shout. He did not retaliate with noise. Instead, he responded with dignity and precision. He documented every violation, invoked statutes, filed RTIs, and unearthed audit trails. He wielded the power of truth, backed by institutional memory and international credibility.

His calmness echoed the Gita’s wisdom: “समत्वं योग उच्यते” (His calmness echoed the Gita’s wisdom: Equanimity itself is yoga-सुख-दुःख, सफलता-विफलता, और अनुकूल-प्रतिकूल परिस्थितियों में मन की समता (संतुलन) बनाए रखना ही योग है)

And his resolve carried the force of:
“कर्मण्येवाधिकारस्ते मा फलेषु कदाचन ।
मा कर्मफलहेतुर्भूर्मा ते सङ्गोऽस्त्वकर्मणि ॥”
— Your right is to action alone, never to its fruits. Do not let the fruits of action be your motive, nor let your attachment be to inaction (आपका अधिकार केवल कर्म करने में है, उसके फल (परिणाम) में कभी नहीं। इसलिए, न तो फल की इच्छा से कर्म करें और न ही कर्म न करने (निष्क्रियता) में आसक्त हों)
He acted with duty, not desire for revenge, knowing that truth itself would deliver the outcome.

The illusion of authority that the VC carried began to collapse. His oral diktats, once feared, were now dissected in inquiries; his foreign tour expenses, once hidden, were dragged into the light; his garlanded mediocrity, once celebrated, was ridiculed. The faculty sage’s calm documentation, combined with the defiance of upright professors, stripped away the mask, and the campus saw the VC for what he truly was — a man unworthy of even a lecturer’s chair, propelled upward by family privilege, now masquerading as the university’s deity.

Worse still, his inefficiency and short‑sightedness had paralyzed campus life. All major academic, cultural, and sports events were postponed one after another, each time with a flimsy excuse. Students, frustrated and disillusioned, gave the university a new nickname: “Postpone University.” The courtiers who once clapped fell silent, the students whispered openly, and the wider academic community recognized the hollowness of his reign. The provocation had backfired spectacularly: just as the world today witnesses arrogant powers trapped by their own miscalculations, Lotus University now witnessed its VC ensnared by the very system he thought he could silence. His reality was no longer hidden; it was known to everyone.

And in the silence that followed, the Gita’s timeless words echoed across the campus:
"सत्यमेव जयते, धर्मस्य विजयते" अर्थ: सत्य की ही जीत होती है, धर्म की ही विजय होती है।

Today I am bringing the third episode of my nine episode satire series that begins the OTT‑style saga: “The Vice Chancellor Who Could Never Be Professor”—nine episodes , each peeling back another layer of absurdity from a university that redefined excellence as outsourcing and governance as WhatsApp administration.

⚠️ Disclaimer: This is a purely imaginary satire. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, place or institutions is entirely coincidental and unintended. It is a work of fiction.

🎬 Episode 3: The Lease of Excellence

After emojis and WhatsApp decrees, the Vice Chancellor of Lotous University discovered a new frontier: land and loot disguised as reform.

He conspired with cronies to float Section‑8 companies, funneling public funds to the unworthy while starving genuine scholars. A dubious figure was crowned CEO of the so‑called “innovation initiative,” pocketing a king’s ransom for parroting the VC’s whims and posing as a visionary.

With fanfare, the VC announced: “Centres of Excellence.”
The phrase glittered like cheap tinsel. Students imagined labs, mentors, and innovation hubs. In reality, it was a leasing racket—a land grab dressed up as reform.

University plots meant for hostels, libraries, and laboratories were quietly handed to private parties. MoUs were signed with foreign universities without government approval. These “global collaborations” were nothing but photo‑ops. The VC used them as passports to foreign junkets, strutting abroad at student expense, while back home:
- The canteen was shuttered.
- Departments had no drinking water.
- Student facilities decayed into ruins.

Functional labs were dismantled. Valuable instruments were tossed into garbage bins. Their space was parceled out to outsiders. Excellence was not created—it was auctioned to the highest bidder of gratitude.

Professors asked:
“Where is the academic due diligence?”
“Who approved these land transfers?”
“Why is the university acting like a landlord?”

The VC’s answer was predictable: persecution.
He constituted multiple fact‑finding committees against a senior professor, burying the first report and demanding more until one suited his narrative. His governance was not policy—it was vendetta.

And while land was being leased, the VC was conspicuously absent from office.
His chair sat empty like a museum relic. He ruled entirely through his phone.
- Orders arrived as WhatsApp messages.
- Decisions as emojis.
- Governance as digital decrees.

Faculty and students who sought answers from his secretariat were met with evasions and scripted lies:
“Sir is busy in meetings.”
“Sir is traveling for collaborations.”

In truth, Sir was simply absent—physically invisible, digitally omnipresent, and institutionally irresponsible.

Unlike his predecessor who built the university brick by brick, he ignored basic amenities:
- The main canteen remained shut for over a year.
- Departments lacked drinking water.
- Student facilities rotted.

To add intellectual glitter to this real estate circus, the VC began organizing expert lectures. But the “experts” were individuals with dubious credentials, far below the calibre of Lotus University’s own professors.

One had never published a paper.
Another had failed basic qualifying exams.
Yet they were introduced as “visionaries,” “thought leaders,” and “global disruptors.”

Attendance was declared mandatory for all faculty.
Registers were placed at the hall entrance like a school roll call.

Those who missed—even for genuine reasons—were punished:
- A professor presenting a paper abroad was reprimanded for “non‑compliance.”
- Another, hospitalized for surgery, was accused of “academic indiscipline.”

The VC’s decree was clear: “Credentials don’t matter. Loyalty does. Excellence is whatever I say it is.”

Meanwhile, sycophants clapped like trained seals:
“Sir, this is transformative.”
“Sir, you are redefining academia.”
“Sir, you should be nominated for Padma Vibhushan.”

One even proposed naming the new block after the VC himself:
“The Centre for Excellence in Self‑Promotion.”

The VC grinned. In his donkey‑job past, he had neither the authority to appease anyone nor the respect of peers. Now he presided over acres of prime property—leased in the name of students, enjoyed in the name of self.

His own colleagues and superiors from the organization he parachuted from remembered him as a mediocre functionary who used family clout to grab this plum posting.

Students paid higher fees, walked past restricted zones with no amenities, and whispered: “Is this excellence—or just a real estate scam with a syllabus?”

🎬 एपिसोड 3: उत्कृष्टता की लीज़

⚠️ अस्वीकरण: यह एक काल्पनिक व्यंग्य है। इसका किसी जीवित या मृत व्यक्ति, स्थान या संस्था से कोई वास्तविक संबंध नहीं है। यह पूरी तरह से कल्पना है।

इमोजी और व्हाट्सएप शासन के बाद, लोटस विश्वविद्यालय के कुलपति ने एक नया क्षेत्र खोजा: सुधार के नाम पर ज़मीन और लूट।

उन्होंने चहेतों के साथ मिलकर सेक्शन‑8 कंपनियाँ बनाईं, और योग्य शोधकर्ताओं को दरकिनार कर अपात्रों को धन बाँटा। एक संदिग्ध व्यक्ति को “इनोवेशन इनिशिएटिव” का CEO बना दिया गया, जो कुलपति की हाँ में हाँ मिलाने के लिए मोटी तनख्वाह लेता रहा।

फिर उन्होंने धूमधाम से घोषणा की: “उत्कृष्टता केंद्र।”
यह शब्द सुनकर छात्रों ने आधुनिक प्रयोगशालाएँ, वैश्विक मेंटर और नवाचार की कल्पना की। लेकिन असलियत में यह एक लीज़ घोटाला था — सुधार के नाम पर ज़मीन की बंदरबाँट।

छात्रावासों, पुस्तकालयों और प्रयोगशालाओं के लिए आरक्षित विश्वविद्यालय की ज़मीन निजी कंपनियों को चुपचाप सौंप दी गई। विदेशी विश्वविद्यालयों से MoU बिना सरकारी अनुमति के साइन किए गए। ये “वैश्विक सहयोग” केवल फोटो खिंचवाने और प्रेस विज्ञप्तियों तक सीमित थे।

कुलपति इन MoU के बहाने विदेश यात्राएँ करते रहे — छात्रों के पैसों पर।
वहीं विश्वविद्यालय में:
- कैंटीन सालों से बंद पड़ी थी।
- विभागों में पीने का पानी नहीं था।
- छात्र सुविधाएँ खंडहर बन चुकी थीं।

कार्यरत प्रयोगशालाएँ तोड़ी गईं। कीमती उपकरण कूड़े में फेंक दिए गए। उनकी जगह बाहरी लोगों को दी गई।
उत्कृष्टता नहीं बनी — उसे आभार के सबसे ऊँचे बोलीदाता को बेचा गया।

प्रोफेसरों ने पूछा:
“शैक्षणिक जाँच कहाँ है?”
“ज़मीन हस्तांतरण की अनुमति किसने दी?”
“विश्वविद्यालय मकान मालिक क्यों बन गया है?”

कुलपति का जवाब था: प्रताड़ना।
एक वरिष्ठ प्रोफेसर के खिलाफ उन्होंने कई तथ्यान्वेषण समितियाँ गठित कीं — पहली रिपोर्ट दबा दी गई, और तब तक समितियाँ बनाते रहे जब तक मनमाफिक रिपोर्ट नहीं मिली।
उनका प्रशासन नीति नहीं था — व्हाट्सएप पर चलने वाला प्रतिशोध था।

जब ज़मीन बाँटी जा रही थी, कुलपति स्पष्ट रूप से कार्यालय से गायब थे।
उनकी कुर्सी एक संग्रहालय की वस्तु बन चुकी थी।
वे केवल मोबाइल से शासन करते थे:
- आदेश व्हाट्सएप पर आते।
- निर्णय इमोजी में होते।
- प्रशासन डिजिटल फरमानों से चलता।

जो भी उनके सचिवालय से जवाब माँगता, उसे घिसे‑पिटे बहाने मिलते:
“सर मीटिंग में हैं।”
“सर सहयोग के लिए यात्रा पर हैं।”

असलियत में सर गायब थे — शारीरिक रूप से अदृश्य, डिजिटल रूप से सर्वव्यापी, और संस्थागत रूप से गैरजिम्मेदार।

उनके पूर्ववर्ती ने विश्वविद्यालय को ईंट‑ईंट जोड़कर बनाया था।
वहीं ये कुलपति बुनियादी सुविधाओं की ओर पीठ किए बैठे थे:
- कैंटीन साल भर से बंद।
- विभागों में पानी नहीं।
- छात्र सुविधाएँ जर्जर।

इस रियल एस्टेट सर्कस को बौद्धिक चमक देने के लिए कुलपति ने विशेषज्ञ व्याख्यान शुरू किए।
लेकिन “विशेषज्ञ” ऐसे लोग थे जिनकी योग्यता संदिग्ध थी — लोटस विश्वविद्यालय के प्रोफेसरों से कहीं कम।

एक ने कभी कोई शोधपत्र नहीं लिखा।
दूसरा बुनियादी परीक्षाओं में फेल हो चुका था।
फिर भी उन्हें “द्रष्टा,” “विचार नेता,” और “वैश्विक परिवर्तनकारी” कहकर पेश किया गया।

सभी शिक्षकों के लिए उपस्थिति अनिवार्य घोषित की गई।
हॉल के दरवाज़े पर रजिस्टर रखे गए — जैसे स्कूल में हाज़िरी ली जाती है।

जो नहीं आए — चाहे कारण कितना भी जायज़ हो — उन्हें दंडित किया गया:
- एक प्रोफेसर जो विदेश में शोध प्रस्तुत कर रहे थे, उन्हें “अनुपालन न करने” पर फटकार मिली।
- एक अन्य, जो सर्जरी के बाद अस्पताल में थे, को “शैक्षणिक अनुशासनहीनता” का दोषी ठहराया गया।

कुलपति का फरमान स्पष्ट था:
“योग्यता नहीं, वफादारी मायने रखती है। उत्कृष्टता वही है जो मैं कहूँ।”

इधर चाटुकारों की तालियाँ तेज़ हो गईं:
“सर, यह क्रांतिकारी है।”
“सर, आप शिक्षा का पुनर्परिभाषण कर रहे हैं।”
“सर, आपको पद्म विभूषण मिलना चाहिए।”

एक ने तो नया भवन उनके नाम पर रखने का प्रस्ताव दे दिया:
“स्वप्रचार में उत्कृष्टता केंद्र।”

कुलपति मुस्कराए।
अपने पुराने गधे‑नौकरी वाले दिनों में उनके पास न अधिकार था, न सम्मान।
अब वे छात्रों के नाम पर लीज़ की गई ज़मीन पर राज कर रहे थे — स्वयं के नाम पर उसका सुख भोगते हुए।

जिस संस्था से वे पैराशूट से लोटस विश्वविद्यालय में उतरे थे, वहाँ के वरिष्ठ उन्हें एक मामूली कर्मचारी मानते थे — जिसने परिवार के रसूख से यह मलाईदार पद हथिया लिया।

छात्रों ने ऊँटी फीसें दीं, टूटी सुविधाओं के बीच चले, और फुसफुसाए:
“यह उत्कृष्टता है — या पाठ्यक्रम के साथ चल रहा रियल एस्टेट घोटाला?”