Quark
Quark, a boardless eatery at the Indian Institute of Technology, Madras, was an insider destination. Deep inside the campus, flanked by hostels, the canteen would open late in the evening. As students, we went there for an after-dinner snack or a hot drink, so we could tackle study material, or work on problem sets, late into the night. At least that was always the intent.
The tech school in the urban forest campus celebrates its sixtieth birthday this year, but Quark has not been around for that long. Alumni, including the current dean of students, were happy to help me get the origin story. Those who’d frequented the canteen shared their memories.
In the early 1980s, when the students asked for a canteen that would serve them after the mess in the individual hostels closed each day, the director green-lighted the project. Students went on to design and build the canteen themselves with guidance from professors who taught structural engineering
Retired Prof. P.S. Rao recalls that the students wanted something which would look different from the flat beam and column structures all over campus. Students made components of the umbrella-shaped roof in the lab and erected the structure with a make-shift crane. The crane, with its limited lifting capacity, decided the size of the canteen.
The tiny canteen got a name that honored its size. Quark is a subatomic particle, smaller than a proton or neutron, and is a basic constituent of all matter in the universe. Theoretical physicist Murray Gell-Mann postulated that the neutron and proton could be made up of three particles with fractional charges, which he called quarks. (There are three types of quarks and they occur in pairs: up/down, top/bottom and strange/charm.) Gell-Mann who won the Nobel prize told lexicographers that the name quark was inspired by James Joyce’s novel Finnegan’s Wake. He thought of Joyce’s line “Three quarks for Muster Mark” as a take on a pub owner’s call of “Three quarts for Mister Mark.”
No one ever ordered three quarts of anything at Quark, but the name fit. The name was so widely accepted that the builders decided no name board was necessary. “It was the only eating joint for students on campus, and students gravitated towards Quark naturally, in the evenings, and after dinner, so there was no board,” explains Prof. C.V.R. Murty, one of the student-architects of Quark.
At first, Quark sold tea, coffee and some snacks. Students arranged for cooks, organized the supplies, and kept the books. Sometimes, they even did the cooking.
Quark lost its student-run status after an embezzlement issue came to light. The editor of the student magazine thundered in print on the deplorability of corruption, and how those who steal public funds should not be allowed to go scot-free. The authorities turned the management of Quark over to people in the food business. This was just as well because it meant students of the 1990s, like me, got an extensive menu.
The fried rice at Quark is a memorable item for many. Flecked with green beans, capsicum, and tiny cubes of carrots, this dish was always a treat for the taste buds. For an extra rupee, you could even add bits of scrambled egg to rice. Whether you were escaping from the uranium-yellow “radioactive” lemon rice or idli-sambar dinner, you were grateful for this warm, flavorful food. Kheema dosa, noodles and pao bhaji were other staples. Everything was reasonably priced.
Quark’s menu was beside the point really. If you were an inmate of Sarayu, the only girl’s hostel on campus back then, you went to the canteen because you could. Riding a bicycle, enjoying the cool night breeze, and hanging out with friends was a treat. Elsewhere in the city, getting out at a late hour for coffee or tea, would be impossible for a spirited girl or even a whole gaggle of them. Quark, then, gave some of us Sarayuites, with strict curfews at home, that first taste of freedom.
What else was Quark good for? Students sat on the steps or the cuboid concrete blocks, a stand-in for café furniture, nursed their beverages, and took big decisions. Which electives to pick, how to pass courses with tough instructors, or, finally, which American university’s admission offer to accept. Quark was an informal venue for skits, a soapbox during student elections, and a brain-storming base for the altruistic to plan relief work.
In the devastating cyclone of 1985, when some hapless residents of the neighboring villages of Taramani and Velachery lost their lives, and others lost their homes, survivors took shelter in the Student Activities Center building. Student volunteers gathered at Quark to decide on how best to help the villagers, Prof. Murty recalls.
No one who studied in IIT in the previous century will recognize the canteen in its new avatar. A multi-cuisine restaurant has sprung up at the spot. The place has a huge board that says Quark, but students willfully ignore the sign and refer to the eatery by the name of the restaurant chain, I’m told.
Not too long ago, I went to the place, in the late afternoon, with a former Sarayuite, who is now a professor at the institute. We had rotis with bhindi masala and dhal fry for lunch. It was broad daylight but everything tasted delicious.
If you want to the reason Quark was started , in the first place, read this article in the September 1979 issue of campus magazine.
It IS indeed a sad commentary on the state of affairs in I I T (M) with its vaunted boast of excellent amenities If It cannot provide its Inmates With a Simple cup of tea which does not taste like rat poison.