I
have been wanting to write about my alma mater JUIT since a long time. I would have written
this piece much earlier, only if I had enough motivation or the right words.
Recently on a free wasted weekend, I loaded my photo collection DVDs from college and
spent a good time re-living the moments. That sorted out the motivation part, words
came instinctively. This post is a slightly longish read, hence I recommend
reading it in your FREE time aaram se and if you ever make it till the
end and like it, please do share it with the ones who were a part of your grand
journey. Our grand journey. :)
9
floors down the memory lane
I
see clouds. Lots of clouds.
Embracing
the mountains like lovers cuddled up together.
You
can't tell one from another.
I
am mesmerized. Awestruck. And yes, terrified.
This
is how it started.
A
journey of four years that I would later remember as the best four years of my
life.
I
enter the hostel 15 at JUIT. It is newly built.
The
smell of dust, cement and dry paint fills the void that silence creates.
It
is a long walk down 9 floors to my room.
I
arrange my luggage, and meet some people.
They
are at the same podium, as nervous as I am, as open as I am.
Misery
finds company, we become friends.
A
lot has been said about being bullied and ragged by Seniors.
Not
that it isn't unexpected, still the fear is overwhelming.
We
go for meals to Junior-Mess in groups.
Passing
through senior hostels, ever aware of the watchful eyes upon us.
We
try to ignore it. Look away. Try to camouflage.
Nobody
is spared.
A
tender hand comes around the shoulders and whisks me away into the slaughter
houses.
Inside
the room, a flock of predators has gathered to enjoy the show.
After
one hour of dancing, cussing the fan, loving the wall and all along trying not
to laugh, or cry; we're freed.
Angry.
Shocked. But relieved. Ragging isn't that bad after all. The fear subsides a
little.
It
is 8:50 AM. I'm having tea at the tuck shop, having thrown out of the class
again.
A
new found joy sweeps in upon hearing the magic words these days : "get out
of the class".
It
means getting the chance to soak up the morning sun. The sun feels nearer in
the mountains.
It
also means not missing breakfast that day.
We
are sitting in the Mughal gardens. Copying the assignment for Microprocessors
class.
Academic
block stands tall as if mockingly announcing to the mountains, 'I'm the boss
here!'.
A
bunch of 4th yearies are playing Cricket on the Basket Ball court.
Envious.
I think how "lucky" they are to have so much free time. I'm wrong.
Coming
back to my assignment, I realize I don't have stapler here.
We
go to the library to ask for one. Librarian gives his usual curt look before
giving it to us.
Microprocessors
is followed by preparing a lab file followed by coding Fibonacci series.
Funny
how life becomes so intervened in certain activities that you forget to
breathe,
Making
the occasional deep gulps of the thinner but pure Solan air vital.
Dhabas
have been discovered. Monthly Shimla trips have begun.
Trekking
is the new craze where more than the terrains we explore ourselves.
I
now know what it means to be a JUITian. I'm wrong. Not yet.
I'm
a senior now. Life on campus looks much better.
Now
that I can be on the other side of the bargain, I still don't like ragging.
It
is not in my nature to have a false sense of power, I yearn for respect
instead.
Academics
has taken a back seat. True college life has begun to flap its wings now, so
have I.
Late
night LAN games are a hip. Freedom and JAP are our answers to Cyberoam.
I
now know almost everyone in my batch. A walk from hostel to 'academic' never
goes by without a few Heyys.
From
blank multicasts to groups to latest movies, IP messenger gives 'sharing' a new
meaning.
On
weekends Wakna, Kanda, Shoghi, Solan, Shimla, calling Baldev bhaiya and the
likes for cab,
Clubs
and societies, events, competitions, tuck, cafe, and McD dhaba,
"Kaushal
bhaiya, samosa crush kar dena..", "1 ka sikka nahin hai, ye lo Eclairs
le lo.." are now a custom.
One
night stands with books and notes help us sail through the exams. Well, almost.
To
take a break from celebrations, we celebrate even more.
Le
fiestus. A few weeks of preparations for three days of non-stop lunacy.
However
hard I try I cannot become sincere enough for the exams that follow the fest.
Thanks
to relative grading. We all do equally bad, and hence are equally happy.
As
placement season approaches we try to become 'serious'.
One
by one almost everybody gets placed.
We
are ecstatic. No pressure whatsoever on the remaining days at college.
The
best semester of all has started.
Classes
are rarely attended. Final project is going on at a snail's pace.
We
have become lazier. I want to soak every ounce of this beautiful dream.
And
then the 'lasts' begin. The last shimla trip. The last trek.
The
last photo session. The last CS game. The last class. The last exam.
The
last birthday bumps. The last joints. The last drinks. The last celebrations.
Documentaries
are made from SENTIest movie songs. Farewell messages are scribbled.
The
blue shirts become home for cliched goodbye messages and some creative erotic
drawings.
The
'last' week is the toughest, more so if you're leaving in the end.
The
empty hostels with their monstrous claws and paws tend to rip your soul apart.
The
door that welcomed you a million times, now only has a graffiti - parting -
message, and a lock.
Roaming
blankly on empty hostel floors is followed by another daunting task that I
vehemently hate : Packing!
Rotten
socks, fungi laden mathri-boxes, empty deo bottles, seal packed shampoo, new
crisp 1st year books,
Stack
of old newspapers, Ultra stuffed dustbin with Maggi packets, Eclairs wrappers
-- and what not!
I
don't know where to begin, so many loved attachments to throw, so many memories
to stuff in these bags,
So
many moments of infinite joy to be taped. Forever.
I
have learned a hell lot in these 4 years. Most of it outside the classrooms.
Affairs,
crushes, FRIENDSHIPS, fights, chaos, apprehensions and inane dramas have taught
invaluable lessons.
I now
comprehend that the bold letters on the 'Thank You' gate are a dedication. From
us to the alma mater.
I
am standing at Waknaghat.
At
the same spot on the other side of the road waiting for my 'last' bus to Kalka.
Acquaintances
at the chemist shop, Paradise hotel, the salon and the general store --
Unbothered,
are busy with their regular work. They have witnessed heavy hearts leaving
hundreds of times.
The
bus comes.
I
am lucky today, I get a seat.
The
last journey begins on the same winding Shimla-Kalka NH-22 which is notorious
for giving sickness to many.
Sardarji
from Punjab Roadways are driving the bus with the same nonchalant concern.
Twists
and turns and slides and roles begin.
After
a few minutes, the bus passes through a turn, known as TOI in Jaypee parlance.
And
then I see it. For a last time like this.
In
the lap of Shivaliks, nestled on top of the hill, standing tall like a barren
fortress with sparkling neon diamonds.
I
wave towards my JUIT, and it smiles in return, like an old granny adjusting her
glasses to have a good look,
And
instructs the hill and the trees to join in the farewell, my fortress subtly
waves its tall hands,
I am not sure whether it
is saying goodbye; or calling me back.
p.s. Here is a collection of some photos of JUIT on flickr.
20 comments:
great one yaar. Miss JUIT.
awesome :)
I love it Adi, so so comprehensive with so many lines touching with the very true pinch.
One of many "I wave towards my JUIT, and it smiles in return.....".
beautifully written, thanku for sharing !
Amazing...!!!
Himachali me bole to Faddu...!!! :)
What to say !! .. Every JUITian is having same story .. Same memories .. the best memories and the awesome story .. !!
very nice aadi.....
descriptive enough to send a JUITian in heavy nostalgia.... :)
Great yar.
Nicely put..
rulana hi baaki tha...mil gayi shanti!!
Thank you everyone.
@esha mam, :)
Nice... Good... Too Good... Great... Awesome !!
"Superolicious"
Every word written take you back to that beautiful place. Very well written. I do miss my college days, what i call as Golden Days. Thanks for reminding those 4 beautiful years spent.
Awesome!! sir ji!! Finally,I have found a JUITian who loves writing.:):)
really nice sir...
i feel that these words are not khokle... agazing...every engineer has the same story at JUIT
Doesn't get any better.. Bro.. Beautiful !!!!!
very nice ... i could imagine how it feels when you reach the final year, amazing memories that everyone has in the college time...so much fun..
amazingly written :)
Just 47 days left in JUIT, this beautiful write-up is a total bang-on to what I am feeling right now.
Beautiful !
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