CHEMPARUTHI - WHERE I BLOSSOMED...

When we were involved in a heated discussion to select the Electives for the fifth semester just some time back, it suddenly dawned upon me that half of my college life is about to get over in a matter of a fortnight (Mechanical Engineering has exhausted me to the core, so I don’t think I will be doing any PG), so here’s my account on my stay at the hostel during my first year.

Getting admitted in a college half way through a semester, according to me, would be the worst possible start ever to a course. It was a great relief for me personally to shift somehow from a prestigious institution in Coimbatore to my dream, CEG (There are people who opt for the place from where I came, or rather, fled. This is purely my opinion). This was through a process called FOC, which my mates confused with the Fundamentals Of Computing – one of the subjects in the first sem. Actually, FOC expands as Fifty percent Open quota Counselling. Explaining the criteria and inclusion of candidates for this process is beyond the context of this post.

After completing the formalities, it was time to get enrolled in a hostel. The man in-charge at the hostel office looked at me suspiciously as if I had escaped from a jail and was seeking temporary asylum at CEG. He then gave me three options. “You can take a room at the ground floor of J Block or one in the second floor of Chemparuthi or another in New Block. The choice is yours.” Apparently, these were the vacancies created due to the people who had kept engineering as their concubines temporarily till they met their true love - MEDICAL.

There was a bit of confusion. I slowed myself down and started thinking. On my way from the counselling hall to the hostel office, all the hostel blocks were incarnated in terms of flowers. Moreover, I reminisced one of my friends informing about him staying at a block named after some flower. And, that’s how I chose to enter CHEMPARUTHI!! I didn’t know then I would miss this hostel terribly after the mandatory shift to another block in the second year.

I was allotted Room No. 56. As dad accompanied me to help out arrange things in order (Ladies aren’t allowed inside. So, mom had to stay out), I was received by a pot – bellied, gigantic fellow, who introduced himself as IQBAL (I do not forget to thank the Almighty daily for introducing this guy). It was 2:00 P. M and most of the freshers had classes then. When enquired by dad, he stated very calmly, “Who cares to go to class daily, pa? It would suffice if one has 75% attendance. Never mind!” And, he was watching some intimate scenes in a hollywood movie. Something about that frank reply flattered me and I smiled secretly. On the flipside, fear gripped me because no dad would like this kind of first impression. Thankfully, my dad was not one among those and he gave a shy grin so as to remain neutral between admiring Iqbal’s guts and staying strict to me.

Due to this late admission, there were a lot of chores to be completed within a short span of time. Second internal assessments were commencing in a week and there was Agni, the intra – college culturals in between. (First internals had already been done with then) Lab experiments had to be completed and records signed. Adding to these painstaking works, I had to run from one extreme of the campus to the other for some petty stuff. It is worth noting here that CEG spans almost 220 acres. Due to these shortcomings, I was not able to interact with most of my first sem mates. Sadly, I miss this one particular aspect very badly because it hurts when you aren’t able to reciprocate someone’s greetings even after them mentioning that you were their batchmate (In the first sem, students from various departments mingle in several batches in order to facilitate communication breaking barriers).

Hostel was my reservoir of recreation after every excruciating day at labs and classes. Slowly, I got acquainted to the whole wing. Every room was meant for 4 people but that never happened. There would be just 2 people, or in the worst cases, none in a room, while another room would be brimming with 15 to 20 people. This metaphors the economic situation of India with wealth overflowing on a side and people begging for basic amenities on the other, eh?

Presence of all the four inmates of my room at the same time was a rare reality as VIKRAM would be omnipresent minus our room. The first semester went off in a whiz, with my roommates getting irritated very often on account of my switching the lights on at 6:30 A. M most of the time. Record works had to be completed!

In the second semester, there was the formation of this epic VMS (Varuthapadadha Maanavar Sangam), inspired by the Sivakarthikeyan – starrer, VVS. This made me closer to all friends of friends and we started enjoying each and every day. There would be games daily, with cards being the first preference. ASS was always the unequivocal choice and we targeted one guy routinely. Either the cards would be circulated in such a way that he got all the bullshit together or we made secret gestures to turn the tables on him.

Everyone had some distinguishable qualities that were worth imbibing. Iqbal was a cool guy, who stayed calm even during exams. He knew his limits and trusted his abilities. Marks never mattered even when he failed to score and he would just say serenely, “I did well. Let’s hope for the best in the next.”

Vikram was an inspiring guy who would do anything for his friends, no matter what the situation. He would gladly be at your side even on the day of examination, if you are ill. His mantra was and is, “Exams come and go; degrees and grades flow and pass; but, friendship stays.”

Shivaprakash was one who lived the life of a hermit, a modern one with a mobile and nothing else. I was always blown by the way he spent time only with that tiny gadget, staying static even for half day. His needs were limited and basic. He didn’t require hotel food on the days when mess itinerary was too bad; he never complained about anything. All he needed was porn.

Aadhil was a miraculously gifted guy with extraordinary photographic memory. Iqbal, being my first friend, introduced me to Aadhil as ‘The Man Who Missed State Rank in the Boards By A Whisker’. He was my mentor throughout the first year, be it solving the most intricate problems of Maths – I or the Greek and Latin programs of C. Making a count of the number of languages and dialects that exist in the world would be trivial if one goes through his mobile, which would contain movies of all languages – mostly classical ones.

Santhosh a.k.a Sandy was the most matured man of this gang. He was the one who knew when to stop even the most intriguing game of cards so that we slept at least for some time in the nights. If every gang should require a perfect planner, we had Sandy. His equality in treating a newbie as well as the close friend in the same way was the one thing that brought me to my feet.

Bharath was the alter ego of Aadhil. This should have stemmed, perhaps, from the fact that they were from the same school.

Vignesh was the one who always made everyone ready for dinner sharp at 7. No matter what, inspite of repeatedly being mocked and criticized for this activity, he continued this penance throughout the year.

Ezhil was one drop of the prick of fate, as he was forced to put up here due to his low age, despite being academically eligible for a seat in medicine. If Vignesh was the alarm for food, this guy was the one for play and Mahabharatha. He would take extreme pain in waking Iqbal up, as fatso would lie there in his bed after a full meal. An, whenever Iqbal felt lazy or sleepy, he would scold dutifully, “Why do you always want me to call everyone? Share the responsibilities rather than thrusting them wholly upon me.” Ezhil was secretly envied by all of us because he, assured of a medical seat the next year, was enjoying life at CEG thoroughly, with no need of studying or writing records. It would not be an exaggeration if I mention him as the Pioneer of Mahabharatha in Chemparuthi. First, he started watching, which attracted Iqbal and shortly, there were flocks of people yearning for the next episode. Proxy server helped them to track back old episodes and progress with the yet-to-be-telecast Tamil episodes by viewing the Hindi version. The sincerity Ezhil showed to write Shri Rama Jayam before each and every action can never be forgotten. He would call everyone for playing and then suddenly disappear into his room. We would later learn that he was writing the holy words.

For me and Vikram, the major pastime would be observing Iqbal’s way of speaking keenly. He would often mispronounce a word or name someone mistakenly that would become the topic of laughter the whole day. In fact, I was maintaining a separate notebook with accounts of all the new linguistic innovations of Iqbal, which, Vikram would playfully mention, would soon become a new dictionary of contemporary English. However, Iqbal was always our stress- buster. When we were bored with cards, Iqbal would call customer care and speak relentlessly for half – an – hour, all the while enquiring stuff that didn’t concern a mobile service provider. It would start like this: “Hello… Nalla irukingala, Sir? Enna oru madhiri pesuringa? Customer-a kandukama vada saapudringala?” (Hello.. How are you, Sir? Why do you talk strangely? Has eating vada become so important than attending to a customer?) The course of this conversation (mostly a monologue) would range from menu cards in hotels to mega serials in television. We would be laughing uncontrollably, forming a circle around him. I realized the magnificence of his brilliance only after my trial at a customer care number. They immediately sensed that I was a prank caller and disconnected the line. I admire him for creating so much of fun around here without them knowing that they are belittled.

Balaji soon joined in. He was more of a daily working guy in the first semester but got used to CEG life soon after. He brought business game into our list and we started playing it endlessly. During second semester examinations, there were three – or four – day gap between two subjects and mostly, we would rush everything in the last day or two only. So, our obvious focus would be on Business. Iqbal was always the banker, exhibiting clairvoyance with clarity in announcing bonuses and rate slashes. Apparently, this was due to his managing their shop during holidays.

VMS always made it a point to celebrate birthdays of its members with sheer grandeur and atrocity. The manner in which a treasury was maintained to collect funds from all its members to buy cakes and other common necessities like cards, chessboards, cricket bats, et al. was astounding. Vikram, as the boss, would always preside over things and Sandy was always his right hand.

There were always hassles when Vikram’s dad gave him some dinner, mostly parathas. He is a Government Bus driver, whose route covers the proximity of Chidambaram to Chennai. He would always notify Vikram regarding his coming and stop in momentarily at the bus stop near the University to hand him the treasure. That short sentimental looks exchanged between a loving father and a longing son would easily well my eyes. Everyone would be bustling for their bite, which would almost end up in nobody having anything, with the floor taking up the lion’s share, courtesy the spill-outs.

I could never forget the T20 World Cup matches watched in the TV Hall of Chemparuthi. The abuses on the opponents when they took a slight edge in an encounter, the angry remarks on our own players when they failed to fulfil their responsibilities, the pre – match and post – match discussions about the weather forecast to what could have been done to reverse the results in favour and many more are etched in my heart. That sound of Deeiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii…. after each boundary scored and each wicket earned can never be forgotten.

One of the major highlights of Chemparuthi was that students could come in at any time illegally by climbing the corridors. There was a pipe outlet, which should have been constructed by a merciful human being, keeping in mind students’ thought process, because it served as the bridge between the ground and upper floors. This meant night shows were not a problem at all. The three movies (Endrendrum Punnagai, Biriyani and Dhoom 3)  I watched with my batchmates in a row on three nights were great fun, with us making a hell of a scene before boarding a cab, due to unavailability of buses late at night.

When Two States hit the screens, we were very eager to go to the theatre. But then, second semester exams were on and one of two balaadhkar kind of papers awaited. The night before English exam, Aadhil finally took the initiative for a night show along with me and Bharath. It was especially worthy (you know why) and I still remember going to the exam with insufficient sleep, in a kind of stupor, and writing Krish Malhotra and Ananya Swaminathan irrelevantly at many places.

It didn’t matter a great deal when we vacated the hostel after two semesters but now, as I sit here at my second year hostel and type the whole of this, demarcated by various departments and messes, something insinuates me and makes me yearn for a chance to stay there at that heaven for one more year with the same friends, same deck of cards, same customer care pranks and same friendship.

From a childish school-goer to a somewhat matured hosteller, from an eccentric nerd to an interactive fellow, from feeling homesick at hostel to feeling hostelsick at home, Chemparuthi has been my second home.

I MISS YOU, CHEMPARUTHI!! I WILL MISS YOU FOREVER!!!