You probably wouldn't get the feeling behind this post unless you have a firsthand experience. Last week, I happened to visit the NIT Calicut campus for some work. The college was bathed in a festive mood with students celebrating their annual fest, Tathva.
Two young voices sitting on the registration desk announcing timings and registration details for about-to-start events sounded fresh on the microphone. Teens frantically pacing all around between different makeshift stalls were effervescent in their colourful tees and shredded style jeans. Those unconcerned couples were spotted walking carelessly chewing peanuts or licking icecreams. Moving a bit farther, there was a small gathering cheering a bunch of guys dancing on a small stage probably made for impromptu competitions. The onstage mood seemed to reverberate across the spectators - jubilant and ecstatic, clapping noisily, everyone seemed to be engrossed with the display of energy, youth, excitement, life!
And there I was, standing a couple of yards away across the road with thoughts moving to and fro my mind like those students cycling past their Hero and Avon cycles on the campus' main road. Nostalgic reflections of college days were the first passers by - the festive spirit of Srijan at ISM bounced back with all its fervor - what energy we had to roam around and shout and at least witness everything that used to happen over the three days! There used to be life - amidst canteen and hostel backyard chats, amidst elocutions and solos and JAMs, amidst bonhomie of the entire campus at the upperground, amidst midnight trips to GT Road's Khalsa or to Ram Charitra Singh's tea stall on Dhanbad station. And it's hardly the same now - the euphoria has been waning over the years.
To wash the thoughts all away, I went for lunch at the good old Lovely Dhaba just outside the NIT campus. It didn't prove much of a respite. The place was thronged with even more students - small groups of teenage boys and girls chatting incessantly on topics which I feel I have come a long way from. You yourself don't realise when you changed, or got so much subdued with the waves of time ironing out many of those bubbles of your personality. You don't realise, or probably don't want to accept, the difference which time brought into you with those few months of job and higher studies interspersed between college life and present. And pretty much ironically, its time which throws you back sometimes to ensure you understand the reality, that things do change. It's not a good feeling though, to know that you have aged.
very touchy.. indeed, and very beautifully put. the feeling of tme-sand slipping out of your fist...
The aging is so gradual that we don't realize it. It's only when we stop and look back that we find out that those were different times.
I totally relate to what you have said. Infact just reading your blog I felt so refreshed.
But it is on you to keep that KV of ISM alive.We all age. We all move on. And sometimes we dont get enough opportunities to do the things which we used to do in college..........
......parantu I feel you should never allow that child inside you to die. That enthu and fire needs to be burning all the time. And if life doesnt present you enough opportunities to relive your old days and provide a vent to your enthu....You go and find opportunities to do so!!
Enough gyaan now- but typed it in 1 minute flat :)
Nice post, very nostalgic. I go back to my school once every year and can't help feeling the same...
In late fifties, when I was probably in 6th or 7th grade, during the summer vacations, I used to sit in my favorite quiet corner of the house, and read the hindi books my mother saved after her Sahitya Ratna. Short stories from Munshi Prem Chand, Poetry from Mahakavi Nirala, Saket from Sumitra Nandan Pant, and among those was Kamayani by Jai Shankar Prasad. "Him giri ke uttung shikhar par, baith shila ki sheetal chhaon, Ek purush bheegey nayanon se, dekh raha tha pralay pravah, Neechey jal tha Oopar him tha, ek taral tha ek saghan, Ek tatva ki hi mahanata, Kaho usey jad yaa chetan..." and while searching for Kaamayani, I came across this blog. I started reading the poems, and suddenly I was back to my summer vacations, reading "Idgah", "Do Bailon ki Katha", "Shatranj Ke Khiladi". Thanks for very nice collection
Had to make the correction! "Saket" was by Maithili Sharan Gupt, and not by Sumitra Nandan Pant. Sorry about that!
Post a Comment