2003=1973-78.Zip? Musings of a Bard
I sometimes wonder as to what was more exciting. The 5 years we spent on the campus or the 1 year we spent in priming ourselves for the SJR or the 4 days (2 in my case) that we finally spent at the SJR, reliving the moments, the flashes of memory, the glory, the sweat and the pains from a quarter century back.
Things sometimes appear to be very different from a distance and we cherish and value certain things more when they cross over from the realms of the present to the nostalgic soft focus of the past. When the past and the present meet however, then funny things happen. Things feel strangely unknown and familiar at the same time.
1973-I still remember that rainy July morning when I entered the IIT gate, across the Kalyanpur railway crossing, in a tempo, sitting next to my father, a tinbox and a hold-all snuggling next to my feet and my untrained eyes looking around in a wide-eyed wonder, my nostrils full of the smell of freshly washed earth and trees. “Four Bumps and Many Children Ahead”, said the first road sign I saw.
2003-Oh, where was that board this time? When I entered this time, in a Maruti Van, sitting next to the acquisitions of the past years, including a life-partner, I saw the large walls, the gate, the building housing the railway reservation counter instead.
The place feels strangely unknown and familiar at the same time.
1973-Tentatively enter the L-7 for the 1st orientation session, staring unfamiliarly at another 240 guys (no gals!!). I can still feel the nervousness and the lump in my throat that I felt that day at the thought that this unknown place will be my home for the next FIVE years. (It seemed so long then!). As days and months and years pass some of those strangers become best friends, some remain acquaintances and possibly some remain only vaguely familiar faces one sees in classes, L-7 movies, labs and Mess. Possibly the value of those relationships and how they had grown roots in the interiors of heart had not fully sunk-in though there always was a lurking suspicion that it was something unique.
2003- Land up at VH and peer closely at those 50 odd unfamiliar faces. The eyes try to go behind the accumulations of the past 25-30 years-the balding pates, the swelling paunches, the graceful, executive looks, the gorgeous trophies on the arms (The elegant wives) and find the lost child behind them. As the mist of time clears, the smiles crack, the guffaws appear and the uncertain hugs become stronger and warmer. There is again a lump in the throat as the emotions swell up at seeing those cherished friends, whose value had become more pronounced while they were away and also at the thought that, “Oh! This memorable reunion is only for 4 days” (It seems so short now!). Aren’t some of the friendships warmer now than they were in the past? The roots in the heart deeper now.
The place feels strangely unknown and familiar at the same time.
1973-Enter the hostel room. It appears to be so quiet and so big. Would this be my abode for 5 long years? I don’t have enough material to fill up the shelves. I wonder at and contemplate the independence and responsibility of staying in and maintaining my own room and my own affairs (not the ones you are thinking of-you dirty minds!). The light appears to be bright and the atmosphere right for serious studies.
2003-Enter my old hostel room in Hall I, D-211. Why does the room appear so small now and the light so dim? Is it the age or the emotions making my eyes hazy? There is a computer sitting where the lecture notes used to. E-Mails delivered by Hotmail and Yahoo instead of those thick envelopes delivered by Shivcharan. But there is something strangely familiar in the smell of the air. The new kid occupying the room is perhaps secretly feeling amused to see the child like glee on my face. But who cares!
The place feels strangely unknown and familiar at the same time.
1973-Remember the walks from the hostel to the classrooms. We would walk straight as the crow flies. No barriers, no walls, only the undulating green expanses out of which emerged bright red brick structures housing the Lecture Hall complex. The long well-kept corridors and the quiet ambience occasionally pierced by laughter and gossip of passing groups of students.
2003- Walk from the VH to the lecture hall complex. “Oh, why is it so circuitous?” One has to bother about which gate is open and which is not. There is so much more traffic and so many more vehicles. So many new buildings, some still under construction. The buildings do appear older but the smell in the air is still familiar. Look longingly at that tree under which Prof. Mahajan would sometimes hold the Philosophy Class. The quadrangle in front of library where the famous “Bhookh Hadtaal” happened, though the fountains are quiet now.
The place feels strangely unknown and familiar at the same time.
1973-Remember the celebrity shows in the pandal outside Lecture Hall Complex. The large man-sized speakers reverberating to the rich baritone of Hemant Kumar (Sun Ja Dil Ki….Daastaan!). The cultural festivals, the skits, the plays on the L-7 stage, the overhead mikes catching the sounds unevenly but still creating magical moments. There was so much joy and these were among the high points of existence.
2003-There is a new auditorium where once there were open spaces. There is Bose Audio System with smaller but vastly superior speakers, made possible through the untiring efforts of some of the more enterprising souls amongst us…Greatly Rakesh Pandey. Great new cutting-edge technology but we troop on to the stage and try to recreate the old magic by enacting the freshers’ night play and singing those tunes that got so deeply etched on our memories through those unforgettable B&W movies. It still is one of the high points of the stay here.
The place feels strangely unknown and familiar at the same time.
We try to relive those 5 years in a compressed format (WinZip or JPG or GIF?) in these 4 days and, like a greedy soul, try to gather as much closeness and affection with each other as we can. It’s like a child trying to grab sand in his fists and clenching it hard while the sand, as is its property, keeps slipping out from between his fingers. “Oh! Only if there was a technology to prevent this!” It’s like a dead person has been granted his life back for a few days. He has now understood and realized the value of the life he had been granted and which, sometimes he didn’t value enough. He tries to make the most of the time he has been granted.
Thank you folks. Thanks especially to Rakesh-Jugnu, Atish-Meena, Anil-Renu, SriKrishna-Renu, Gunjan-Smita, Tarun-Anita for granting us this brief re-incarnation. Thanks Shirish for making all of us cry at your excellent rendering of those times. And thanks to all the souls who reappeared at this time and made it all happen- so grandly and so uniquely. And also thanks to those souls who could not make it but were never far from our thoughts during those 4 days.
Thank You SJR. I await the next time you will happen though I know you will technically not be an SJR then but a TYR. Never mind the semantics. We’ll cherish it even more when it happens.
Things sometimes appear to be very different from a distance and we cherish and value certain things more when they cross over from the realms of the present to the nostalgic soft focus of the past. When the past and the present meet however, then funny things happen. Things feel strangely unknown and familiar at the same time.
1973-I still remember that rainy July morning when I entered the IIT gate, across the Kalyanpur railway crossing, in a tempo, sitting next to my father, a tinbox and a hold-all snuggling next to my feet and my untrained eyes looking around in a wide-eyed wonder, my nostrils full of the smell of freshly washed earth and trees. “Four Bumps and Many Children Ahead”, said the first road sign I saw.
2003-Oh, where was that board this time? When I entered this time, in a Maruti Van, sitting next to the acquisitions of the past years, including a life-partner, I saw the large walls, the gate, the building housing the railway reservation counter instead.
The place feels strangely unknown and familiar at the same time.
1973-Tentatively enter the L-7 for the 1st orientation session, staring unfamiliarly at another 240 guys (no gals!!). I can still feel the nervousness and the lump in my throat that I felt that day at the thought that this unknown place will be my home for the next FIVE years. (It seemed so long then!). As days and months and years pass some of those strangers become best friends, some remain acquaintances and possibly some remain only vaguely familiar faces one sees in classes, L-7 movies, labs and Mess. Possibly the value of those relationships and how they had grown roots in the interiors of heart had not fully sunk-in though there always was a lurking suspicion that it was something unique.
2003- Land up at VH and peer closely at those 50 odd unfamiliar faces. The eyes try to go behind the accumulations of the past 25-30 years-the balding pates, the swelling paunches, the graceful, executive looks, the gorgeous trophies on the arms (The elegant wives) and find the lost child behind them. As the mist of time clears, the smiles crack, the guffaws appear and the uncertain hugs become stronger and warmer. There is again a lump in the throat as the emotions swell up at seeing those cherished friends, whose value had become more pronounced while they were away and also at the thought that, “Oh! This memorable reunion is only for 4 days” (It seems so short now!). Aren’t some of the friendships warmer now than they were in the past? The roots in the heart deeper now.
The place feels strangely unknown and familiar at the same time.
1973-Enter the hostel room. It appears to be so quiet and so big. Would this be my abode for 5 long years? I don’t have enough material to fill up the shelves. I wonder at and contemplate the independence and responsibility of staying in and maintaining my own room and my own affairs (not the ones you are thinking of-you dirty minds!). The light appears to be bright and the atmosphere right for serious studies.
2003-Enter my old hostel room in Hall I, D-211. Why does the room appear so small now and the light so dim? Is it the age or the emotions making my eyes hazy? There is a computer sitting where the lecture notes used to. E-Mails delivered by Hotmail and Yahoo instead of those thick envelopes delivered by Shivcharan. But there is something strangely familiar in the smell of the air. The new kid occupying the room is perhaps secretly feeling amused to see the child like glee on my face. But who cares!
The place feels strangely unknown and familiar at the same time.
1973-Remember the walks from the hostel to the classrooms. We would walk straight as the crow flies. No barriers, no walls, only the undulating green expanses out of which emerged bright red brick structures housing the Lecture Hall complex. The long well-kept corridors and the quiet ambience occasionally pierced by laughter and gossip of passing groups of students.
2003- Walk from the VH to the lecture hall complex. “Oh, why is it so circuitous?” One has to bother about which gate is open and which is not. There is so much more traffic and so many more vehicles. So many new buildings, some still under construction. The buildings do appear older but the smell in the air is still familiar. Look longingly at that tree under which Prof. Mahajan would sometimes hold the Philosophy Class. The quadrangle in front of library where the famous “Bhookh Hadtaal” happened, though the fountains are quiet now.
The place feels strangely unknown and familiar at the same time.
1973-Remember the celebrity shows in the pandal outside Lecture Hall Complex. The large man-sized speakers reverberating to the rich baritone of Hemant Kumar (Sun Ja Dil Ki….Daastaan!). The cultural festivals, the skits, the plays on the L-7 stage, the overhead mikes catching the sounds unevenly but still creating magical moments. There was so much joy and these were among the high points of existence.
2003-There is a new auditorium where once there were open spaces. There is Bose Audio System with smaller but vastly superior speakers, made possible through the untiring efforts of some of the more enterprising souls amongst us…Greatly Rakesh Pandey. Great new cutting-edge technology but we troop on to the stage and try to recreate the old magic by enacting the freshers’ night play and singing those tunes that got so deeply etched on our memories through those unforgettable B&W movies. It still is one of the high points of the stay here.
The place feels strangely unknown and familiar at the same time.
We try to relive those 5 years in a compressed format (WinZip or JPG or GIF?) in these 4 days and, like a greedy soul, try to gather as much closeness and affection with each other as we can. It’s like a child trying to grab sand in his fists and clenching it hard while the sand, as is its property, keeps slipping out from between his fingers. “Oh! Only if there was a technology to prevent this!” It’s like a dead person has been granted his life back for a few days. He has now understood and realized the value of the life he had been granted and which, sometimes he didn’t value enough. He tries to make the most of the time he has been granted.
Thank you folks. Thanks especially to Rakesh-Jugnu, Atish-Meena, Anil-Renu, SriKrishna-Renu, Gunjan-Smita, Tarun-Anita for granting us this brief re-incarnation. Thanks Shirish for making all of us cry at your excellent rendering of those times. And thanks to all the souls who reappeared at this time and made it all happen- so grandly and so uniquely. And also thanks to those souls who could not make it but were never far from our thoughts during those 4 days.
Thank You SJR. I await the next time you will happen though I know you will technically not be an SJR then but a TYR. Never mind the semantics. We’ll cherish it even more when it happens.
Comments