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!!!
