Back to Allahabad . . .

My first day of Motilal started a day earlier when I left Shimla, a very small town away from speed and noise of cities. My father was taking me there for admission. My mother told me to be careful because Allahabad would be very large city, she thought so. 

Only once had I boarded Indian rail before when I was very small. 

My journey from Delhi on Upper India Express that day left me scared and scarred to this day. It was overcrowded. I was travelling with my father and had reserved berths but the rush of daily commuters inside was bursting and we were made to squeeze to a corner. The commuters, all  unruly males from Aligarh , Tundla were simply bullies and foul, fighting among themselves. There was a foreign couple in immediate next coupe. The way these starved men harassed them that day, etched frighteningly to my memory for ever. I hear, those scene continue even now on trains leaving Delhi in the evening and on those arriving in the morning hours. 

Then there was this gentleman sitting next to us. On learning that we were going for admission to MNREC he told us about the rigors of ragging there which he had heard from his brother who studied there. 

At Allahabad we put up in a hotel near  Niranjan Cinema and went to college later that day. I don't recall anything significant on admission process at college campus but remember having tea at Paul's, near the gate. He remained my favourite Third Place for rest of the years in Motilal. On hostel I remember having met Vardhan who took me aside after seeking Papa's permission and took little introduction which also included my first taste of three dimensional gaali. 

An important insight I was introduced to was his counselling that all students here are father, mother, brother, sister to each other so these gaalis have meaning within that context and premises only. That was very assuring and convincing which sobered my concerns. The hostel admission was probably being done at Tundon. I was allotted room at C-Top Tilak which I was to share with Anil Bishnoi. He was soft and friendly. I don't recall exactly how, but I did meet Shyam and John Jacob those first days. 

One incident,I will like to share, is of Sangam where we went next day. The Pandaas actually looted us on boat ride and we innocent pahaaris allowed them to laugh as well. I lost  faith on that institution permanently. Later that day we again went to college and I was to be now left at hostel. 

I remember, after leaving my luggage at hostel, me, papa and one more newly introduced friend I forgot, walked to tri-junction past Pura Gaderia where Papa took rick to Hotel leaving me behind. Remembering that moment is most emotional memory associated with my father who is no more now. It was first time he was leaving me away at that far place. I could not see him crying but he did, so did I. I was turning back while returning in hope that he would follow us. 

Thanks Anna and Jyoti I just walked back to those days and felt the chill. I salute the technology that we all are so well connected and bound to our roots tied to the days we spent together at Motilal.

Four years were undoubtedly most cherished ones during past whole of half the century.