|Posted by Jacob Parackal on June 22, 2010 at 2:38 AM|
NITK- A sonnet to life
Men’s life is like the four loyal seasons
Joy stays in their eyes at picturesque spring;
And as August’s summer warmth edges in
They enthused on to enjoy enchanting
company as brownish autumn appear;
Tho’ its sweet leaves fall ever so swiftly
To pace with life’s time that’s ever changing,
let moments never in stationary
So as life’s final season came to play
With cold flurry and lonely sentiments,
Let him sense love’s warm glorious display
And glimpses of poignant reminiscences.
That when eyes are closed for eternity
Thy presence be dignified legacy
As I sit back to recollect the years gone by, I cannot help but attribute the farrago of memories to the enormity of the experience. An easy perspective of chronology beckons me but my heart forces me to relive all those days as they cannot be shredded down to a bare collection of words. A gorgeous sense of déjà vu crawls over my memory and takes me back to July 2006.
And 2006 was when a bevy of worthy denizens tumbled down upon this universe. From a healthy collage of teenage behaviors and aspirations to the prosperity of BATCH OF 2010, the Golden Batch, the journey has wandered itself through limitless experiences.
Rains were lashing down this part of the world when NITK opened up its hallowed porticos and welcomed us with open arms. A coat of green against the cloudy silhouette that settled onto this campus on those initial days of our collective lives provided us with a perfect setting to embark upon our personal discoveries; and so we did it. ATB was Ground Zero. As professors and lecturers from various departments tried to flood our minds with their collective wisdom, some of us drifted away to more meaningful pursuits. As every facet of NITK life opened itself up to our great mental delight; a physical manifestation otherwise popularly known as “75% compulsory attendance” forced us into torment eight to five schedule. Chemistry labs and workshops, Engineering graphics and Professional Communication classes turned out to be intellectual fodder for a few and mental torture for others. Amidst the initial onslaught, as all of us came to terms with our individual capabilities and limitations, a nice symbiotic rhythm evolved and carried us forward.SJA events were on a rise and we as the fresher looked forward for an opportunity to meet the damsels of the college. A golden opportunity for the seniors to get the intros of the most flamboyant of the girls. Fresher took the chance to increase their social network. Dance workshops meant look-out for an obtainable partner. Meanwhile a unique experience called “Hostel Life” bestowed upon us as if an opiate had stoned our collective psyche into permanent submission. SNP and DC came to our rescue of the most edible rotis and the first block mysore mess. It was a war within one self. Block calls were increasing by the day which clearly meant hostel doors closed at 10. Back door exits were pondered upon and in no time second semester was coming to an end. It ended with whole sets of fresher parties. Before we could soak it up, first year of college life has sauntered away and the audacity of its soulful influence was to hold us together for the rest of our lives.
Second year dawned upon us as we braced for our very own “Departments”. Branch change was the initial buzz word all around and its most notable effect was an increase in the average GPA’s of IT and Mech as mining and meta was further depleted of their woefully small taskforce.7th Block became our abode which meant 3 in a room for a space of 2. Club Recruitment brought forward a season of frenzied activity and ultimately bestowed upon a privileged few of us, their oh-so-good name and cherished tasks (dragging benches and filling up the auditoriums). The NITK Webster was meanwhile shaping up and words like Bond, God, Stud, imba, da, lolax, load, ultra(and a few non-mentionable) were in vogue like anything. The horrible trio of Department Classes, Mess ration, and water shortage had by then forced us to surrender ourselves to their brute force and sustained intensity. Bombay Mess II added to the woes. SNP was now FC and DC bakery was no more. Junta was quick enough to discover the useful LAN and things like CS, DOTA and Netscan were a godsend. Fourth Semester started with a Big Bang as our departments decided to teach us the actual meaning of the phrase “Baptism by Fire”. As third sem results sent CGPA’s spiraling down the barrel; some of us were driven towards working harder while the majority of us were sent packing into academic oblivion and indifference. As the sophomore season came to an end, we had learnt how to survive the face of unrelenting adversities and could not wait up for the penultimate pillar of our constructive baptism to fall into place.
The evening saga of our journey was calm and sedate. Third year as opposed to its predecessors yet no less vibrant in its treatment of our mystified souls. 3rd and 4th Block was to be our den for the year. Magic taps came to our rescue. Every department was intent on brandishing its full might upon us but this was the time when the real “engineers” among us learnt the tricks of the trade. Internships and trainings were secured with gaudy ease. The greenery around the campus was slowly getting into a concrete jungle. As junta devoured sitcoms and movies not unlike a glutton treating himself to an aristocratic buffet, the night canteens could not dish out enough of the vada pavs and omelettes. Meanwhile people had passed over the mundane academic show to their collective subconscious and CAT, GRE and GATE were the recipes of the day. TIME ‘departmental store’ was in full demand and the starting milestone of our competitive journey was in sight. We soaked up the fine balance of studies and fun that arranged itself out for us in those days. Elections for the Final year happened this year for ‘they’ wanted to have ENGINEER the next semester. As our camaraderie grew by leaps and bounds during those exacting days, a sense of expectant fulfillment was lurking round the corner. We all were like props on a deserted stage, awaiting the entry of the principal actor who alone could give us the meaning once more.
The “last leg” of our sojourn-FINAL YEAR was upon us in a flash starting the journey as nomads from the 7th block to the newly constructed Mega Block and its much promised ‘characteristic immortality in our minds’ turned out to be spellbinding to the core. The first instance of that psychedelic effect was the “Placement” season. It promised us the most fruitful experience of our college life till date. As we set out on that road of professional fact-finding, we did nothing but assure ourselves about our inner abilities. We learnt how to market ourselves to the corporate on campus. Companies and organizations came and went by and every night was a celebration-a celebration of success, a celebration of life. The journey from mutual concern and agony to collective success was immensely satisfying. Throughout the length of our shared escapades, we discovered each other once again-our strength, our weaknesses. As curricular concerns were completely forgotten in a frenzy of ‘Appling’ to universities and sitting for numerous entrance tests the famed ‘final year life’ dawned upon us. Junta went in for outdoor activities owing to the lack of LAN and Internet in the new block. No generator back-up meant recurrent trips to the hostel terrace. Attendance fell to 25 %. Project report submissions, to seminars and presentations- everything contributed to an inspiring collage of individual experience for each of us. Calls from choicest of Indian and Foreign universities wait up and the best days of our college have wafted past us like a delicate fragrance before we could cherish its aroma.
The last few days of our entwined lives are upon us. One cannot help but look back at these four years and marvel at their richness. As we prepare for the vagaries of the dirty adult world, we know we are ready. We don’t know what crushes us more- the power that crushes us or our endless ability to endure it, the endless memories or the knowledge that they cannot be relived. Coffee at Krishna’s and ‘chuskis’ at Pehlwan, those innumerable tobacco-sticks and Double bread omelet, endless intellectual banter and nonchalant musings-Everything contributed to an indelible mark on our lives- a sonnet to this microcosmic world, a sonnet to the Indian way of life. The only thing is it wasn’t just 14 lines.
At the NITK Beach, as the great milky wheel of stars rises wet and shivering from the waves every beautiful evening and the gibbous moon settles on the sea, we cannot help but marvel at it being a perfect analogy to our college life. As they say…
Walk the road and be bold
A walk to remember when you are old.
That’s what NITK meant to all of us- A CELEBRATION