A sprawling campus sharing its ground with the prestigious Hare School in one of the oldest educational piazzas of Pre Independent India. Looming architecture amidst a fading decadence and utilitarian match boxes dwellings, still exuding the radiance of sheer intellectual brilliance.
I don’t remember the first time I heard of this place. Neither do I remember ever considering this place after fourteen years in the posh private girls’ school. As I spent hours on the phone discussing future plans with one of my friends I remember hearing some warnings about a culture shock and possible adjustment problems.
There was an entrance exam. And that was the first hurdle. Students applying to economics were to be tested on two fundamental subjects, Math and English; two subjects I positively adored on account of them requiring minimal preparation.
The exam went well, apparently. It was a hectic ten days in New Delhi, all alone, grappling with admission forms and long queues. The St. Stephens College interview didn’t go too well. And the cut offs for the other colleges were to be out in two days. I knew I would clear it. The Stephens cutoffs for interview stage were the highest in the country. I spent my time trying to make a choice between Lady Shriram and Shriram College of Commerce. The former having a better economics department and the latter having a better placement guarantee.
I chose the former, paid the admission fees. Got my ID card photo taken while standing in long queues waiting with other aspirants, making friends along the way.
And then came the phone call from home saying that I had topped the Presidency Entrance Test. Great. This was followed by another series of debates of LSR vs. Presidency. Images of culture shock and a lonely existence with no likeminded people flooded my mind.
But a basic laziness took over. The fact that I would be staying at home and that college would just be a ten minute walk and that I wouldn’t have to look for PG facilities and that life would be much easier in my own city… took precedence over the independence and freedom that I had been craving for the most part of my school life.
And now, eight months in this utopian hamlet and I’ve never been happier. I now know that the freedom that I had longed for was from the fake walls of my school, from the set of friends I had and from the things we valued. I found my kind out here. I found an atmosphere of everything. A cosmopolitan macrocosm where people don’t judge you by what you wear of the brand of English you speak. They judge you by what you do and what you don’t. There’s a feeling of easy camaraderie even amidst the occasional cases of violence, political conflicts and intellectual discussions over cups of lemon tea.
I haven’t dabbled with politics, I haven’t tried smoking pot or even the milder cigarettes, I haven’t participated in any sort of activism. I have participated in a few debates and I have been present always, as a silent observer. Not silent in words but definitely silent in action. I have walked through the hallowed halls breathing in its rich history. I have sat for endless hours on the portico discussing politics with my debating team. I have sat for endless hours in the hallowed Promoddas canteen gossiping and discussing trivialities. I have sat in the greens sipping lebu cha and talking about love with one of my best friends in college. I have stayed late at college on the fest days enjoying rock concerts like I never ever will.
I’ve been really happy for a while now. Abnormally happy! I’ve been happy enough to dance in the rain in front of all the folks in the canteen. Yes. It’s true. I have had the most amazing sleepover one could ever have. I have lived in these past few months. Really lived!
And now that things are falling into place and now that we’re getting used to the novelty of it all, the excitement and euphoria has solidified into a feeling of contentment and satisfaction. I know I’m in the place where I belong.
Sunshine never looked so beautiful.
I don’t remember the first time I heard of this place. Neither do I remember ever considering this place after fourteen years in the posh private girls’ school. As I spent hours on the phone discussing future plans with one of my friends I remember hearing some warnings about a culture shock and possible adjustment problems.
There was an entrance exam. And that was the first hurdle. Students applying to economics were to be tested on two fundamental subjects, Math and English; two subjects I positively adored on account of them requiring minimal preparation.
The exam went well, apparently. It was a hectic ten days in New Delhi, all alone, grappling with admission forms and long queues. The St. Stephens College interview didn’t go too well. And the cut offs for the other colleges were to be out in two days. I knew I would clear it. The Stephens cutoffs for interview stage were the highest in the country. I spent my time trying to make a choice between Lady Shriram and Shriram College of Commerce. The former having a better economics department and the latter having a better placement guarantee.
I chose the former, paid the admission fees. Got my ID card photo taken while standing in long queues waiting with other aspirants, making friends along the way.
And then came the phone call from home saying that I had topped the Presidency Entrance Test. Great. This was followed by another series of debates of LSR vs. Presidency. Images of culture shock and a lonely existence with no likeminded people flooded my mind.
But a basic laziness took over. The fact that I would be staying at home and that college would just be a ten minute walk and that I wouldn’t have to look for PG facilities and that life would be much easier in my own city… took precedence over the independence and freedom that I had been craving for the most part of my school life.
And now, eight months in this utopian hamlet and I’ve never been happier. I now know that the freedom that I had longed for was from the fake walls of my school, from the set of friends I had and from the things we valued. I found my kind out here. I found an atmosphere of everything. A cosmopolitan macrocosm where people don’t judge you by what you wear of the brand of English you speak. They judge you by what you do and what you don’t. There’s a feeling of easy camaraderie even amidst the occasional cases of violence, political conflicts and intellectual discussions over cups of lemon tea.
I haven’t dabbled with politics, I haven’t tried smoking pot or even the milder cigarettes, I haven’t participated in any sort of activism. I have participated in a few debates and I have been present always, as a silent observer. Not silent in words but definitely silent in action. I have walked through the hallowed halls breathing in its rich history. I have sat for endless hours on the portico discussing politics with my debating team. I have sat for endless hours in the hallowed Promoddas canteen gossiping and discussing trivialities. I have sat in the greens sipping lebu cha and talking about love with one of my best friends in college. I have stayed late at college on the fest days enjoying rock concerts like I never ever will.
I’ve been really happy for a while now. Abnormally happy! I’ve been happy enough to dance in the rain in front of all the folks in the canteen. Yes. It’s true. I have had the most amazing sleepover one could ever have. I have lived in these past few months. Really lived!
And now that things are falling into place and now that we’re getting used to the novelty of it all, the excitement and euphoria has solidified into a feeling of contentment and satisfaction. I know I’m in the place where I belong.
Sunshine never looked so beautiful.
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