THE IITK DAYS

nostalgia....memories....moments....experiences

June 15^th, 1993: Eyes rolled on endlessly on the rough pages of the newspaper. 334002. Yes! Done it. Rounds of salvo, bravo. Felt excellent. Counseling time. Filling plenty of choices. Shouldn’t miss IITK.

A calm dawn at Kanpur Central. A white bus with IIT Kanpur written on it tumbles in. They asked and we followed like lambs. Seniority was awe-inspiring then. The bus moved on and the landmarks of Kanpur – LIC, Bada Chauraha, Parade etc. were left behind, and then came the beckoning portals of IIT, the academic area, peacocks, monkeys, and the profs. IITK draped in monsoon verdure is exquisite. The cool dusk. Leaves bedecked drops like pearls, cloudy sky, a fairy sitting next to the library fountain with a beautiful peacock dancing by her. No time was lost in deciding – "Gar firdaus bar ruye zaminast, haminasto, haminasto, haminast (If there is paradise on earth, it is here, it is here, it is here)". The ambience is perfect to do anything but studies.

Out of the blues, came the seniors, prowling for the timid freshmen. It’s ragging time. Baaps, dadas, maas, behens, but no beaux. Can you laugh in a sine curve? Calling names, asking CPIs, going to GH: all those favours appeared too hard for our tiny souls. Who knew that these will be elusive as we grow older. We felt lonely, but never alone. Hall II versus Hall III, a friendship of convenience. The midnight exchange of pleasantries. Movie shows at L7. Dancing on the stage. Kissing the actress on the screen with an M01 lying in ambush. The first jolt: a perfect zero. The dawn breaks at basky court. Miss five turns and you are gone. Dozing in the lectures. Brazen face when caught. First mid-sem. Basics in "topo"logy. Overnight we became crude oil merchants.

Culfest time. The telus become Casanovas overnight, and the maggus ogle religiously. Hasya Kavi Sammelan, Remo show, fashion shows, jams, and the sizzling minis. It as mind boggling.

The mid-sems could give us nothing more than a hindsight and now the end-sems are around the corner. Some religiously go to the library, others to the canteen. A chance to evaluate the instructor. Group magga, community bulla, but a tough paper. "Yaar, tel ho gaya". Slogan renting the air. What do you think will the average be? How does the instructor grade? I think I’ll be in the borderline. Please consider. And it’s over. Too eager to go home. How many tens in the batch? What’s your SPI? Capabilities of our batch-Unforgettable!! Pass!! Treat . Fakka!! Cancelled return reservations. Summer course.

Next semester. New rooms, new bathroom slippers, new resolutions and old pals. Got used to the batch. Quizzes were routine. Bunking classes cogging assignments and lab reports, all in the game. Hey! Going to the Chaurasiya. Get these notes Xeroxed for me too.

Long bulla sessions in the canteen. Night long bulla, early morning chai at MT. Evening stroll at shop-C. All became inveterate habits. Chungi Dosawala at gate, Hotlips, and CR, the favorite joints. Sunrise at Hall III water tank top/F-B Top, morning tea at MT, sleeping through the next day bunking all classes. What a carefree life.

The inter hall competition Galaxy. Lure of refreshments. Publicity stunts, grand shows. Time of celebration. The croud in Hall III quad … All night long!! Days just went by. Lots of them – busy ones, lucky ones, thrilling ones. All kinds. The mess. Unlimited style of cooking. Bullet proof nans, gunshot chickens, and some curd. And the mess workers mostly recalcitrant.

The rats in Surat go crazy and we went nuts for them. Undue fear rents the air. To start with it was a fanfare for plague but to end with we were plagued by the fear of midsems. A stalemate. No hope but to escape. And a history was created though not very pleasant.

Summer time. The time for industrial training, projects and summer jobs. GRE mugga starts. Sesquipedalian, Aardvark, Zephyr, Catachresis, … Pirouette. Wow! Suddenly , the past had all kinds of colourful brochures, photographs of campuses with funs facility and (better) dames. Hey, where all are you applying? Couldn’t we sit and avoid clash? Placement news was a close second. Is Schlum coming this year? Borrowed shoes, ties, shirts and trousers. A bath after a long time. And a clean shave. Those sneaky visits to the notice boards in the evening. Some bagged jobs and others became veterans.

Come the final semester. CAT is over. Applications posted. An anxious time ahead. Come April and a large schols, you regret not applying. IIM interviews going on. Some got through and others….. Time now for a frantic effort on BTP. Nightouts in the CC. CC shutdown at crucial times, excuses for late submission. Power failures during endsems. Carrying water to the third floor. Unforgettable experiences!!

Farewell parties….Nostalgia….The final countdown. Last endsems. Last minute prayers. Not an F now. Yahoo! It’s over!! More and more booze. No due. A final packing. The room emptied for the last time. The last dinner together. The world seems to have come to an end. No more visits to the MT, Shop C, lala, kunwar. No more midnight exchange of pleasantries when the power goes. No more night long bulla sessions and no more of so many wonderful little things. But we will remember them all.

The first real parting in life.

A lump in throat.

‘Good bye to you my trusted friends

We had joy, we had fun,

We had seasons in the sun,

But the wine and the songs, like

The seasons have all gone.’

The bad thing about every good thing is that it has to come to an end.