Memories from the golden years of my life (5)

Well … I deliberately stopped my last blog at the point where I just got introduced to Manish Peter. And I am so glad that Manish has offered his point of view, his thoughts just at the right time. Continue to do so Manish, for the story can never be complete without you. I continue moving further here …


My first thought was a mixed one. I thought this guy looks like an uncle. I had heard that there are people in IIMs come after a lot of experience. Manish definitely seemed to me like someone who had at least 2 years of experience. Given my way of getting informal (call it becoming kid) I thought it might be difficult for me to become friends with this guy. Anyways, it was very kind of Manish to tell me that in case I required some assistance, he was just next door i.e. room 513.

Since I had just come back from the commercial plaza, I was doing nothing while papa was doing up the room. In one of our conversations later, on this very topic Manish told me he was surprised to see papa doing work while I was just standing there doing nothing. Never got chance to clarify this in college Manish, I was not as useless as I seemed. J

I closed the door and had a look around the room. Papa told me it was very good of Manish to come and say hi. My room seemed to be in a much better state than I had left it. Papa had re-cleaned the table rack, the bed and the cupboard. Also, the maid had opened the door at the back end, which led to another door (this time made of net), beyond which there was a small balcony with 2 ropes for hanging clothes. She had cleaned the balcony, although it seemed that it could do with some more cleaning. The view from the balcony was good, though not great. There were a number of trees just outside hostel, beyond which was the main circular road. One could see the bus stop from there and students waiting for the bus. (I came to know about bus stop later only when papa was leaving for station)

Anyways, it was time for me to make a second trip to commercial plaza and have my first encounter with Sonu Singh. There was a huge rush at his shop. Seemed like the Kendriya Bhandar really had run out of everything. I got the rest of the things (which included mirror, soap tray, soap, washing powder, cloth hanging clips etc.) from his shop. I also got an Airtel Connection. (Hutch did not have prepaid and I was averse to postpaid. I always thought they were costly and that making payments is a pain.) Came back to room, while papa was settling the newly bought in stuff and the stuff from my bags, I installed the chip in my phone and called up at home. I spoke with mummy and Dhiraj. Somehow I could not speak much.

It was soon time for me to make another trip to Sonu Singh. We wanted a cellotape to stick brown sheet on my table rack. I saw a couple of familiar faces from my Delhi IIML informal meet and the fresher’s meet but did not bother saying a hi or anything as I had not found anyone to whom I could get close.

I am deliberately not writing about these informal meet and formal fresher’s meet as the story is about the golden years of my life .. which started on 29th June, 2005, the day I left for IIML.

Finally, all settings were done … all thanks to papa. I am very sure till this day that had it not been for papa, I would have never been able to set up my room the way it was done. (Though the settings underwent a drastic change later). It was just too good papa …

I had a bath in the washroom that was on the right side of my room. Actually I had a look at both the washrooms on our floor and the one on our wing seemed to be much better. There was a shower and a place for hanging clothes and keeping all necessities in the washroom. I had learnt (thanks again to yahoo group) that hot water comes from taps in winters. We then went to the mess for lunch. I registered by paying an advance of Rs. 1000 which was to be adjusted against the first bill. The food was not bad. (Actually we learnt later, that whenever parents had to turn up, whether at the time of registration or convocation, the quality of food went up). I don’t remember vividly but I think they had made moong dal and aloo ki sabzi apart from roti, rice and salad which was a constant phenomenon. Papa was satisfied to see food. He said that at least I wouldn’t go hungry as there was a jar of pickle at each table. (Given my eating habits, he was sure that I would end up eating roti and pickle most of the times)

We then went for a small walk around campus. Though this was the first time that I was actually seeing campus, it never seemed so, all thanks to the innumerable times I visited IIML site before coming and the innumerable times I saw the CD sent by Synapse (More on this later …) We saw the academic block, the library and the computer center. Somehow I did not feel like going for a further round and came back in my room. Before that we had found that there goes a bus from campus to the city as papa had to catch a train that evening itself. The bus stop was right outside my hostel. It was not the only one .. but the nearest.

It was evening soon. The bus was to leave at 5:45 and then 7:30. Although papa’s train was at 10 and he could easily reach station in time if he left by 7:30 bus, I had forced him to leave by 5:45 bus, in case the 7:30 bus never came, for then we would be in soup. Before that we went to the mess for some snacks. There was a huge bowl of butter and another one of jam. Tea was kept in a large steel container with a tap. Another such container contained Rasna Sharbat. They had also made snacks which included if I remember correctly some pakoras and a piece of cake. We ate our food in silence and then papa picked up his small bag and we went to bus stop to wait for bus. The conversation that followed was one that I would remember through out my life. Papa wished me good luck. He told me that I should be brave. This was the first time that I was going away from home. And that I should pray to God whenever I am trouble. He said that this is going to be the time when I would build my career, my future and he advised my to work hard for it. I was listening to all this but my mind was not there. There was fear …. Of being left alone. Of having no one to support me. There was fear of leaving my family behind. There was fear of something happening to them while I was here. …

The bus came. I wished papa goodbye. He wished me luck again. I told him to give me a call when he had reached station and when he would reach home the next morning. And then the bus left. I held back my tears with great effort. Went back to my room and cried for the first time on my first day at IIML. I would remember this moment for feeling the loneliest in my life ….

Memories from the golden years of my life (4)

What i saw was not very encouraging. The room was full of dust. It was a small room. There was a bed with a most dirty looking matteress on it. A table cum book rack was stacked in one of the corner. A chair made of cane was also lying there, covered up completely in dust. From the entrance I could see a door on the other end of the room and two windows. I was wondering if they would open or not, such was their condition. Just on the right side of the entering door, there was cupboard made of brick and wooden door. And furthur right to the cupboard was a small window which was inaccessible from all angles. God knows why was it designed in such a strange way !!

The room was painted yellow. The cupboard was also painted yellow. I have always liked yellow colour for the rooms. It gives a kind of glow to the room and the light appears brighter. Anyways, I pulled the luggage inside the room. And both myself and papa entered the room. Once again my interactions on yahoo group came to my rescue. I knew there were maids to take care of hostels. I went out to find out if any maids could be seen. Luckily I saw a maid on the other wing of the first floor. I asked her "Didi, ye mera room bhi clean kar dengi aap?". She replied, in what was her characteristic style "Ji Bhaiyaji". I told her my room number was 514. She came after 5 minutes. First she cleaned the room with a jhadu and later mopped it with a dirty looking rag. She also cleaned the table and the rack cum desk. I tipped her with Rs. 20 and entered the room once again with papa. There was loads to do, literally. I had to arrange all my luggage in room. I had to get so many things of daily use. And we had to eat something too! We were hungry.

I must confess that papa is really an expert at setting up things. Quickly papa set at cleaning the room once again while I set off to get items of common use from the commercial plaza. The commericial plaza was IIML's CP, our shopping centre. There were 2 shops at Commercial Plaza. One was a Kendriya Bhandar and another Sonu Singh, a sardar's shop who was ek number ka chor, again something I had learnt courtesy yahoo group. Apart from these two shops there was a canteen a.k.a. Faujji ka Dhaba and a Nescafe Coffee Shop. Anyways, I wanted to buy things from Kendriya Bhandar due to obvious reasons. There were many other people also who were buying their daily usage articles. However, as happens most of the time Kendriya Bhandar did not have most of the stuff. Anyways I bought whatever they had viz. a bucket, a mug, washing powder, brown sheets etc. and came back. I thought it would be better to keep this stuff in room rather than carry it to the Sonu Singh's shop.

As soon as I had kept the same stuff in my room, someone knocked. As I opened the door, I saw the person who made my life in hell, a heaven. He was slightly taller than me, well built, fair complexion and with few hair on his head. He introduced himself. Little did we know at that time that this person would be the most beautiful and essential part of the golden years of my life. He was Manish Peter.