My first days in college

This is NOT a JoSAA pitch

Electrical Department - the DP of IIT (BHU).

It was a rainy day when my flight touched down at Varanasi Airport. We’d taken a shared cab to the BHU campus from the taxi stand outside. A while into the ride, our taxi spun 180 degrees in motion on the flyover, hitting the concrete barricades. The cab’s rear tire had worn off, and I thanked the civil engineer for not compromising quality. Papa sighed in relief. I nodded.

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To the PCM kid fresh out of Kota, the faith in the air of Banaras was reassuring. But I’d not opted for the college for the mystical experience; I’d gone there because a rank of 9238 didn’t leave me many options. It was a choice that I did not make, but a choice that I appreciate nonetheless.

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We changed to another cab post our little adventure. I remained excited to see my campus. I’d seen photos; of departments that resembled temples, of the pristine gray VT amidst the lush greenery, of hostel lawns the size of public parks. And in many ways, I saw what I’d expected. But the vibe was like nothing I’d experienced before.

BHU departments resemble temples.

The BHU main gate is a portal between two worlds. The chronicled banarasi traffic makes way for wide tree-lined roads, and you can instinctively sense the drop in temperature. The campus has the laid-back charm of a bygone era, and no one seems to be in a rush. It was as if the grunt of the JEE days had finally borne fruit.

IIT (BHU) has a laid back charm.

The first day was for formalities and allotments. I’d been given room A-123 in Aryabhatta, the best hostel back then. There was also the '@iitbhu.ac.in’ email ID; something that I shared with my school friends to announce my arrival into the 'cool kids' club.

My first day at Aryabhatta-A. The canteen was nearby.

Then came the induction week; a series of council orientations, yoga sessions, and campus tours, designed to convince a bunch of nerds that there was a life beyond one-crore packages. The sessions started early in the morning, and the unluckiest of seniors would be tasked with waking up the shehzaadas and the shehzaadis. One particular mahatma would knock at my door for ten-fifteen minutes every morning. I prioritised my sleep even as I pitied them.

We'd rush to the grounds early during induction.

The sessions followed a common script. The anchor would go 'khana kha ke nahi aaye kya?’ to elicit a 'nahi!' from the audience, only to conclude that ’koi baat nahi, break mein kha lena’. By the third or the fourth day, we’d only visit Swatantrata Bhawan to catch a good nap in the air conditioned hall. There were good moments too, like when some SNTC club did a drone demonstration with Jagga Jitteya in the background. The josh was high sometimes.

In the audience for MUN introduction. I had no idea what was to come.

The names of the popular girls had started doing rounds by the end of the Induction programme, and Mirza Ghalib would earn another hundred admirers every time a senior took one of them to lunch. Meanwhile, yours truly was busy stuffing his face with masala maggi and oreo shakes from the Aryabhatta canteen.

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Lectures started soon after, and while I was no fan of studying, a fresher gotta do 75% attendance. I met my group for the first time in the halls of LT-1. It’s funny; none of us considered common qualities, interests, or ambitions. We mostly looked at each other’s faces and went 'chalega’.

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It’s humbling in hindsight. How people who’d grow the closest to me sat in the same SB hall, unbeknownst to be. How I had no idea where I’d end up eventually, or what I wanted to do in life. It’s a special feeling.

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The ongoing JoSAA counseling tug-of-war had me reflect on my own initial days. This is no pitch for anyone to join one college over another. This piece is just an account of my reflections.

Thanks for reading.