The college at the end of the universe

My article for the college magazine. I don't think I'll be writing for it again. I just might. Not likely though. Anyways, if you've ever been to Manipal then you'll be able to identify with this article and if you haven't then this is quite an apt description of what most people keep in their pockets after having experienced Manipal.

“A sleepy little town in the middle of nowhere, where people drink when they can and study when they have to. That’s the last word on Manipal.”

In my second year of college, I had written an article titled “Drinker’s guide to the Manipal galaxy.” This was my conclusion for it. It’s time to dig a little deep now. I’m older.

Like most people, I came to Manipal because I had to. Those were extenuating circumstances all right. Talking about them wouldn’t serve any purpose. Extenuating is a good enough word, methinks. Even if you don’t really understand what it means, roll it gently around your tongue and you’ll get the drift.

The other day, I was telling someone that I now think that one should definitely do college in a city and not in a godforsaken place like Manipal. The curt response was that Manipal has a charm of its own. True! So what exactly is this charm? A charm that pervades from the now quiet road which starts from tenth block and goes up and down till Sheela. A charm that pervades from hours spent in classrooms staring blankly at teachers who simply drone on and on without really leaving an imprint on the minds of impressionable men and women. A charm that pervades from all the joints in Manipal that we visit to, in the Queen’s language, recuperate. Let’s investigate.

College is where a person becomes young. I won’t get into all the details of leaving family, friends and school behind. We all know that. Think about your first few days in Manipal. If you just came here, then simply look around! I remember. Meeting new people, striking bonds, making introductions, mild ragging. Excitement! That’s what it was. Freedom! Excitement and freedom to simply be. BE. And not B.E.

Isn’t it true that this would be true of any other college too? Yes. So what makes Manipal different? People! People from all over the country. More importantly, people who have stretched each and every sinew that they possess, and bled for something or the other in their own ways, and had to settle. Settle for second best.

So what’s with all of us who end up coming here? Well, we survive. In our own ways. I won’t get into the gory details of survival and elimination. It’s all on public display anyways! There’s a joy in surviving here. A joy that I savour, now that I’m out of jail. Not to say that each and every day of existence here was such that I had to grit my teeth and get through it painfully. Not at all! I have a lot of memories that will be with me forever. Good, bad and ugly ones.

Most of the guys who stayed in sixth block in my first year here still talk about the times that they had in my room. Room no 101. The first room. There were many bonds which were formed as we piled on each other even as the night caretaker walked in, as we stood accused of burning down the block notice board, as innumerable nights were spent with six people sleeping on two beds and as we simply became men. I have had some unforgettable times here. Times that I would never have been able to experience in any other part of the world. Be it America, where I so wanted to go for my undergraduate studies, or St. Stephen’s, my other dream.

Today when I sit at a table at Downtown and look around at the people around me, I see memories. Memories that I share with friends who have been with me through, well, a lot of crap. A lot of it! Excellent crap. Good crap. Bad crap. The works. And I also see that I have shared an experience with some pretty special people; and I will always cherish that, no matter how the rest of my life goes and how drastically everything about me and the world around me changes. Sounds corny I know. But that’s how truisms work.

A sleepy little town in the middle of nowhere where people forge bonds because, well, they have to. That’s the last word on Manipal from my end.