A walk down memory lane

By Pradeep "marlboro" Puthparampil

The once bustling corridors now wear a deserted look. With each passing day, a few more rooms become empty. The resounding laughter, and the often pointless, but passionate discussions are just a distant noise now, fading into the realm of memories.

We all set out from here, armed with imparted wisdom ready to chart our own course, to face life in our own ways. Some of us will go on to live our dreams, others will not be so lucky, but all of us start from a common ground, one where all of us have shared the same experiences. It is these experiences that promise to bind us together. We all leave promising to stay in touch with each other, although our jobs and responsibilities might take us to different places, and in course of time, we might not live up to the promises we make. Sometimes, some of us might even cross paths, literally, without even knowing it ; but we will just have to take solace in the fact that , we all shared something in common, that some of the most eventful years of our lives were spent in each other’s company.

Like the times when we used to spend all those endless nights bent over our laptops, coding away to glory on the MFC projects, surviving on countless cups of hot coffee; the passionate design discussions (or should I say “debates”), the occasional silly fights, the inconsequential misunderstandings, the haggling over the access to the discussion rooms(though I have my own doubts about the productivity of it all, anyways…). The time when Prof. Das, was the unofficial warden, and we used to wait and scheme to pour out all our complaints to the Prof. about hot water, drinking water, unclean bathrooms and what not J !! The philosophical digressions of Prof. Srinath’s classes, Prof. Keerthi’s biting humor and wit, Prof. Mahabala’s rantings , and of course, the phenomenally unsuccessful experiment of Prof. LaxmiNarayan’s audio-conferenced Probablility classes are of course unforgettable.

Of course, all these classes were interspersed with us running to the pantry during the break time, each eager to get there as fast as he could, to get his or her own cup of coffee. Needless to say, the atmosphere inside the pantry had begun to resemble that of any typical stock exchange during it’s peak trading time when nobody understands why everybody keeps shouting at everybody else.

We cannot, by any means, forget the “ragging” (or should we call it “bragging” session) by our thoughtful seniors, when they decided that enough was enough, and that it was time to put the young, brash, smart asses in their rightful places. All I can actually remember is that it came to an end with some of us singing songs. Well, that was that. I’m sure most of us wouldn’t want to relive that anyway.

I still cannot forget the day when we ran to attend Prof. KVD’s morning class, only to find that half the class had been made to stand near the screens, because they had come late for class. Most of us were, by this time, immune to any attempts at shame, humiliation, guilt or any such thing, so we couldn’t do much, but join our comrades trying to hide our sheepish smiles, while trying our best to look genuinely sorry. Then came the oft-heard lecture about how our generation has become lazy, and all. And as if that were not enough, to everyone’s surprise Prof KVD decided to top it up with a surprise quiz, a program to calculate the roots of a quadratic equation. A page straight from school!!

It’s a different thing that none of us actually learnt from these mistakes. There was this one time, when more than half the class, bunked the software engineering class, and the remaining half of the class in an act of immense generosity, decided to help out their lazy buddies by swiping their smart cards. Of course, this had been going on for a little over a week by then, and it was more than Senthil could take. So, on that fateful day, Prof. Mahabala, with a little assistance from ace detective Senthil, escalated the issue, and all of us had to stand in line for the obviously well rehearsed interrogation by Prof. Sadagopan. Prof Sadagopan had by then made up his mind that it was time the students’ were reminded of their school life, so off went a letter of apology to the parents describing their ward’s inappropriate behaviour. Now, as fate would have it, Mr. Naim Afsheen (I’m not sure how the name is spelt, so do forgive me if I have misspelt it!!) along with Prof. Balaji decided to add some more life to the play, and brought up the issue of BEC attendance.(The astute reader will here remember that, this was the time when it had taken just one listening to those ridiculous tape recordings, to frighten most of us away from attending those sessions for the rest of its duration) So , a few more students got canned that fateful day, and that day shall probably go down as a red letter day in the history of our batch, for all the wrong reasons, of course!!

Then one fine day , the announcement came through, well not without it’s own share of hype and drama, of course, that iiitb had been declared as a deemed university, and we were now on our way to becoming M.Techs and not some awkward sounding PGDIT-holders !! It was a relief I guess for all of us, and most of us would have said a silent prayer.

Well after that, there was the summer semester. I guess we ended up learning the universal secret of success, two words, that could answer even the most profound of queries, which when applied could melt even the harshest of hearts or vice-versa : “So what !! “ .

Well, we did have our fun moments too. We did have all those dance parties, where some danced and most ogled, while some others decided to get high. Of course we shall not delve into that here. J I think most of us used to look forward to these occasions more for the respite of better food than for the dance parties.

Birthdays of course have always been a much awaited event in our campus, when the poor hapless souls, who were unfortunate enough to be in the hostel, on their birthdays, got properly kicked on the butt, before having their face made into a canvas of cake and cream. Birthdays were the time for everyone to bring out their hidden bottled up aggression, this was the time when no one could question anyone’s motives, and anybody could get away with anything. More recently, the student community has been kind enough to give the birthday babies a proper bath in the pristine ice cold waters of our own little pond. It’s a different story altogether for the birthday baby of course, who finds it difficult to walk straight for a week following his birthday. This is the time of great insight and introspection, where he makes up his mind to practice some serious ass-kicking to avenge himself the next time around. Didn’t I say birthdays are a much awaited event here!! So, goes the cycle …

No account of iiitb is complete without a mention of our profs. We have all held them in awe, of their knowledge, of their skill, of their passion, though some of us will not admit it openly. In our own ways we have acknowledged them, and we have admired them secretly. Part of our pride has come from the fact that we belong to an institution where the likes of these men teach. Far away, in our own villages and towns, we walk with our heads held high, because we have seen a different life, through this institution, we have been exposed to a whole new world, a world where people rise beyond petty differences, where power is not abused, where nothing is taken for granted, where a person’s worth is measured not by how much he owns, but by how much he knows, a world where knowledge is supreme.