The NIMC Times 14th part
To the best years of my life. Let's drink a cup of kindness yet to the times gone by. "The linear chain has been a précis of the good times, rather a narration of the events and mishaps, a sequence of happenings that were unimaginable in nature and in reality" - Kharbanda
The NIMC Times [12th part]
Scene this: LH-3, claustrophobic and suffocating with loads of jokers (others on the fly, a few of whom bedridden in Cmd Hospital, a few locked inside their own rooms), tensed and horrified to the tunes of their college dads, trying to mimic the Economic times for an A to Z write-up, well which went upto a dozen sheets of A3 in size and a slight hiccup by one could take him for an exception, and there he was, rogerred!
And once all assessments got over, did jokers struck inside the Nirman for an overdose, making sure that a few visits could turn them into an Arnold or an under-privileged NIMC super-hero.
And when that quarter was left to strike eleven, for some it was time to bid an adieu, for some a final run to the locker, some trying their best to speed up to just fall back in time from their night strolls, and well if you had gossips or the classified news to break, don’t just do it outside Bhatta Sir’s room, ‘cas he might well be awake putting an ear to those scandals, and why not to our made up rumors that went specially for him!
And just as it struck eleven, and a few called it a day, was the time for managers to make strategies, for jokers in good books to impress for one last time, make POA’s, counter measures, make chits, bullets for easy recollection, a Sutta that worked as a catalyst agent, recall the day’s pranks, try for a group study, reserve comps for the final assault, get your own copy of a CD written, chart out for the hour later birthday bombs, out for a log-collection drive, remind your roommate of his turn to fill up the water can, dip in clothes with a borrowed Tide, make platoons for Wardy’s botheration drive, involve in GD’s comical in nature, make calls to your beloved, missed calls to a few, and on stand by to receive their responses.
Days prior to elections for the council, you witnessed the stirring political moves that opinionated parties to form under-sized mergers, murmured others for backup and making your contender for the ultimate fight with the slight last minute changes! The best was when everything changed and went for a total toss after Diro’s last round, contrary and contradictory in nature and reality.
And now as alumni members take on their proactive step of uniting with their beloved, there sure are to be grandchildren around to pump in JOSH! An occasion of auspicious nature, an exciting opportunity for former students to meet up. You bet, it’s a mini-reunion for some and a lead time for others.
We could never have loved NIMC so much had we not spent our childhood in it. And if you’ve got a bad memory, I am not responsible for the good old days. And well if you’re still yearning for the NIMC Times, just turn off your air conditioning!
The NIMC Times [Part 7]
The NIMC Times [Part 6]
NIMC Times Part 3
Thanks to pioneers who set the trend of a few traditions that knew no bounds, to those lines that punches you often and to those anthems that were more of a giggle. A place drawn by extreme combatism from jokers to juniors, you're ultimately moulding into a corporate mogul! And then comes from the young pumping nerves, "HIGH SIR!" You bett you would grasp, if nothing else, the famous Bhojpuri intro and should have no hassles tieing that knot, without the knot! A time to interact, a time to relate, a time to enact, was the time to live by it.
Drawn to a campus that makes you something out of nothing. Well, talk about it, as Dominique Lapiere calls it, the city of joy embodies the love of culture; not to mention the never-ending strikes and bandhs famous for. It's triumph of intellectualism and say over greed. The complete transparency of all emotions, the warmth of genuine humanity and the supremacy of emotions over all other aspects of human existence. As they call it, the city with a soul!
The rest is defined by misty mornings of due remains and quite like mainas that you may count or the chirps in the olive green backyards of koels and woodpeckers that flock high in the aged barks of century old people and bargad and squeals and squeaks of squirrels so fast. Inclusive are the runs and stead fast walks by a few along with the visits to the Nirman for a shape so well defined. Not to mention some whom you can spot right amidst in BBC dribbling it well and a little afar who may have been watching the judgment day for the dooms day all night long. Not long, you may even spot musketeers back from GP, the delightful savor of cost-cutting flavour! At around half past six , you can boast your morning dose with a cup of the so-called tea to quench the long awaited drink. Many a few are still not lucky but are fast in snoozes in the olive backed barracks that are partitioned to furnish quarters well ventilated with network cables. A glance in rooms and outside may reveal you the born muggers, the late night adventurers and the majority for whom speed is worshipped and net is fast. For since alumni has called it the resort to holiday inn, let late evenings surface its actual stride. A place so well chalked out in an area acre miniature in nature, even Le Corbusier would have praised it's sector-wise demarcations. And much of limelight is from the press when it comes to roll over the headlines, something so important in the making of a manager or a techno-manager! At the daybreak of outmost freedom, for those who abide by the boarding way, life's at its best. An army runs on its stomach, an army institute on a flavorsome meal! Talk about the first meal of the day that not many relish it, the Thursday's paranthas being the most desired; for which many experience sleepless nights. But only if you were the lucky lad could you make your way to the mess or land up knocking on Shushanto's doors! And there you will be in time for the 11 o'clock tea, still uncertain of the lecture or relying on the proxy.
Talk about the tickle tackle and the never ending gossips or the classroom chit chat that always strayed your way for a conversation so sought after. Or do it in the Eden Gardens 'cas it's a safe Spanish Harlem, a place to freak out so often. Or do it on that Puliya , you sure would remember that. The onslaught of the spring made the jokers relished the mango pulp, for which they made their way up on that delightful savor of juicy pleasure. And in detached evenings of Bengal chill, making the pants of warmth of bonfires, hosting the feast with fruit juice and chicken nuggets. For any moment you could still think right to 'by the left' stroll out for a night safari, to Khiddherpore for a second helping, to Setu on bikes, joy rides on trailers, up on that Chimney and why not to the Cellular jail, to the Maidan or surfing up the security covers on the race course! Music outings to Someplace Else for pop nights in this country side for a west side story. NIMC turns into small patches of sundry ventures on every manic Monday and Saturday nights. We explored and we learnt, we followed and preached, the NIMC way.
The evenings were the most happening, the dance parties now and then, not to mention its sharp downfall. The never ending laughter and the wit, the cups that smile with glimmering of sweet wine and beer bottles that knew no bounds, hard rock its most sought after destination. Age shall grow mellow with the thought of it, of a home far away from home! But till late at dusk you'll find yourself, as clueless as ever, both for you and the better half, still gazing down at the grass or waiting for falling stars to fall in again. This may just be the start of nostalgic evidences and the era of alumni. It would bring an adieu to your long plea for placements and blink the reverie that would open your horizon to a whole new world backed by nerve biting competition. Under the army umbrella you grew to be determined. Those were the days, the NIMC days of jollity and mirth that can never be forgotten. Just tinged with sorrow enough to welcome in, with the heartier " ha ha ha bara maza aaya". Years shall recall the NIMC times that knows no dearth of ready jests and sunshine, of sweet lays and lime, of paranthaas or of anda tarka! All wassails that give birth to bliss that lifts the spirit from the earth of a place so loved of.
All it was a different tale to narrate and learn, ever since alumni used to visit the campus and share their experiences. From juniors in school to brats in college, you guess it was a small place to be. And yes it was, different from the usual stereotype. From kicking the ball to chasing it, you could realize all the importance in sports, from inter football matches to the hooter filled volleyball ones prior to freshers, the most sought after TT, the late night badminton, the university meet, the cricket county matches, with alumni on BBC and what not.
I would have given anything in this world to just get back those days, the ragging of the seniors, those introductions, those mugging up of names, those wake-up calls, those midnight fall-ins, those running routines behind S block, those interactive BBC skits, the hip hops, the fresher dance amidst BBC session time, the penning down of countless articles and presentations, the frightening evenings in the mess, the smile wash, the punch lines and the dubbed anthems...the NIMC Times!