Just realised.... It's been a decade since I came to Delhi from Calcutta (God! really has it been that long??? It only seemed yesterday!). In July 2002 I came to Delhi to join the MA English course in JNU (Jawaharlal Nehru University). My plan was set I had to spend two years here and then I would for sure go back to where I belong, my Calcutta, my city of joy. But then that evening some of our classmates trekked to the famous PSR (Parthasarthy Rocks) and on the way a Nilgai (it's a species of antelopes that are often spotted in the campus) crossed my path and looked straight into my eye. "And that's it!" It was declared by a classmate who had already updated himself on the myths of the place that now I would stay here for the nest 10 years. It's an urban legend in JNU that if a nilgai crosses your path and looks into your eyes, you are doomed/blessed to stay in the campus for a decade. Well now it's a different story that nilgais are often spotted roaming the wild campus and JNU offers a life that not many want to leave in a haste. After all, it's a little universe of its own and the air I believe has an anti-dote for ageing (surprisingly something that beauty brands have not yet got the wind of). Life is forever young here, it is a one long party where you can walk in anytime but can never check out. You may physically leave the premises but you will always carry a bit of the soul of the place wherever you go. So while I may have left the campus five years ago, I continue to hold it in my heart.
JNU is seen as a hot bed of politics but it is also a world of lotus eaters who live life in their own rhythm and rules. However, their senses and intellect are not dulled, rather they are supercharged. They exist in a state of drunkeness akin to that of a sufi perhaps. Metaphorically it is a place where there is eternal spring but actually it is in this place that in reality I experienced different seasons and their beauty. Before coming to JNU, I had only read about seasons in Rabindranath Tagore's and Keats' poems, but it was in campus that I actually learnt and felt grey winter melt into beautiful spring, young spring ignite into a blazing summer, the angry summer doused by a soothing monsoon, the lush monsoon bloom into a rich autumn and mellow autumn grow into a severe winter. When I first came to the campus for my admissions, everything was a dry, angry, saffron. It was harsh and unwelcoming, almost like a primeval beast belching out fire to keep one away. But when I returned to check in a month later - everything had changed. The campus was a lush green and young tress and rain as it were embraced me with open arms. The long walks to the school buildings (where we had our classes) became a time to exercise and catch up with friends before the day started. The evening sojourns at Ganga dhaba over cups of extra sweet chai and aloo bonda became sacrosanct, the midnight snack of wai wai noodles with Miss Curly Hair in Colgate Smile grew into a ritual that we now giggle over on our chats on bbm. And then who can forget the much hyped hostel nights and the freshers' and farewell parties. Each one had and I guess will always have the potential to ignite many a love story.
Apart from these JNU has a few more interesting evenings, the North East festival for instance, the International Food Festival (this used to be generally on 14th February), the Chat Sammelan on Holi eve, and the Presidential Debate. Yes elections in JNU can be a festival, from the campaign to the night of counting votes it used to be one long carnival.
While these were the marked iconic days in the life in campus, there were other unmarked yet equally iconic moments like Prasad sir's post-4pm classes, where sir would offer tea to his students. It was a class in Room No 15 in SL Building that one would look forward to because while sir would call for only tea, we placed orders for coffee and snacks. Then there were evenings in Jhelum Hostel's Warden No. 4's residence where dairies were written and shairies were recited over an interesting concoction of rum and tea.
I know this is just an indulgence of nostalgia but those from JNU like to indulge in it nevertheless. And the beauty of the place is that one just needs to step into that world to relive it once again. While we of those times may no longer be the same, as the Nawab, for who to stir is human and sleep is divine, says if the place calls out to you just go drive through it and if you are in a hurry just throw out a coin at the campus as you would to the river or shrine and your prayer will reach the universe.
(Well that's Nawab's style; I just drive down to the campus with my husband to give him a taste of the place and refresh my memories of the wonderland.)
JNU is seen as a hot bed of politics but it is also a world of lotus eaters who live life in their own rhythm and rules. However, their senses and intellect are not dulled, rather they are supercharged. They exist in a state of drunkeness akin to that of a sufi perhaps. Metaphorically it is a place where there is eternal spring but actually it is in this place that in reality I experienced different seasons and their beauty. Before coming to JNU, I had only read about seasons in Rabindranath Tagore's and Keats' poems, but it was in campus that I actually learnt and felt grey winter melt into beautiful spring, young spring ignite into a blazing summer, the angry summer doused by a soothing monsoon, the lush monsoon bloom into a rich autumn and mellow autumn grow into a severe winter. When I first came to the campus for my admissions, everything was a dry, angry, saffron. It was harsh and unwelcoming, almost like a primeval beast belching out fire to keep one away. But when I returned to check in a month later - everything had changed. The campus was a lush green and young tress and rain as it were embraced me with open arms. The long walks to the school buildings (where we had our classes) became a time to exercise and catch up with friends before the day started. The evening sojourns at Ganga dhaba over cups of extra sweet chai and aloo bonda became sacrosanct, the midnight snack of wai wai noodles with Miss Curly Hair in Colgate Smile grew into a ritual that we now giggle over on our chats on bbm. And then who can forget the much hyped hostel nights and the freshers' and farewell parties. Each one had and I guess will always have the potential to ignite many a love story.
Apart from these JNU has a few more interesting evenings, the North East festival for instance, the International Food Festival (this used to be generally on 14th February), the Chat Sammelan on Holi eve, and the Presidential Debate. Yes elections in JNU can be a festival, from the campaign to the night of counting votes it used to be one long carnival.
While these were the marked iconic days in the life in campus, there were other unmarked yet equally iconic moments like Prasad sir's post-4pm classes, where sir would offer tea to his students. It was a class in Room No 15 in SL Building that one would look forward to because while sir would call for only tea, we placed orders for coffee and snacks. Then there were evenings in Jhelum Hostel's Warden No. 4's residence where dairies were written and shairies were recited over an interesting concoction of rum and tea.
I know this is just an indulgence of nostalgia but those from JNU like to indulge in it nevertheless. And the beauty of the place is that one just needs to step into that world to relive it once again. While we of those times may no longer be the same, as the Nawab, for who to stir is human and sleep is divine, says if the place calls out to you just go drive through it and if you are in a hurry just throw out a coin at the campus as you would to the river or shrine and your prayer will reach the universe.
(Well that's Nawab's style; I just drive down to the campus with my husband to give him a taste of the place and refresh my memories of the wonderland.)
