College Days (Nothing Has Changed)

Nothing Has Changed

Nothing Has Changed

Image Source: SVNIT, Surat

“Bhaiya, why have you stopped the car here?” Neil leaned forward from the back seat as the Mercedes rolled to a halt before the rusting gates of NIT, Surat.

“Please go ahead and stop at that tapri (tea stall),” Chinu instructed from beside Neil, pointing at the little tea stall ahead. His real name was Chandrakant but he was baptised as ‘Chinu’. Though he hated that name, he was glad that he wasn’t named Pikachu or Chaatu.

Both of them were visiting their alma mater after almost four years. The driver inched forward and halted at Gopalbhai’s tapri. To any outsider, it was just a ramshackle wooden stall with a couple of benches but for generations of students it was more sacred than the campus library. The stall offered the essentials of student survival: cutting chai, poha, biscuits and cigarettes. They stepped out and approached the tea-vendor.

“Gopalbhai, how are you? Have you recognised us or not?” Neil teased.

Gopalbhai grinned, turned to his boy and quipped, “Chhotu, look, some big shots have lost their way today.”

“Gopalbhai, why are you making fun of poor people like us?” Chinu defended, extending his hand to greet him.

“Chhotu, two cups of special tea for our special guests,” Gopalbhai ordered while shaking hands with Chinu. “So, Chinubhai, what would you like to have? Mild or strong?”

“Give me one Four Square.”

Gopalbhai plucked a cigarette from a packet and gave it to Chinu.

“And for you, Neilbhai?”

“I have quit smoking.”

Chinu lit up, inhaling deeply, the smoke curling around him like an old memory.

“So, what is the purpose of this visit?” Gopalbhai asked.

“The students were missing us,” Chinu replied. “They asked us to come and share our experiences at MindBend. I told them to just call you instead. You know all our pranks.”

MindBend is one of the largest annual technical festivals of western India, organised by the enthusiastic student community of NIT, Surat. It is a four-day event which hosts technical exhibitions, panel discussions, workshops, guest lectures, online events and competitions.

Meanwhile, Chhotu served them two cups of tea. Neil took a sip and closed his eyes.

“Waah, Gopalbhai, waah! Amazing! The same taste! Nothing has changed.”

Gopalbhai was embarrassed and gave a sheepish grin.

After finishing their tea, Chinu pulled out Rs. 5000 from his pocket and handed it to Gopalbhai.

“Mehmaan se paise nahi lete (I can’t take money from the guests),” Gopalbhai protested immediately, almost offended.

Neil intervened, “Even we are not going to pay for today’s tea. This is a settlement of our old accounts. You have to take it.”

Gopalbhai still resisted but Neil and Chinu ignored his protests, dropped it in his galla (cash drawer) and turned towards the entrance of the college. They looked up at the old structure of the entrance gate and uttered, “Nothing has changed.”

They were happy to be back to their college after four years. Through the gate, they walked straight and turned left from the famous crossroad Piya Milan Chowk. The crossroad was named so because several couples hung out over there every evening. From that crossroad, one lane led to the girls’ hostel while the other lane went straight to the boys’ hostel. There was a library adjacent to the other lane that led to the classroom building. They mounted the few steps leading to the library. As expected, it was empty.

“Nothing has changed.”

From there, they made their way to the canteen and ordered their favourite dish Manchurian. When Chinu ate a piece of it, he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “Wow! Wahi khushboo wahi taste (The same aroma and the taste). Nothing has changed.”

After cleaning up their plates, they proceeded towards their hostel. Everything seemed familiar to them- the old departmental building with cracked paint, the old laboratory with dusty windows and the uneven road leading to their hostel. They felt that they had become students again. Their own college days flashed before their eyes. Their pace quickened as adrenaline rushed through their bodies and memories rushed through their minds.

Passing the mess, they grimaced at the familiar smell.

“Chheee! Wahi gandi dal-sabji (Yuck! The same disgusting dal-sabji). Nothing has changed.”

When they reached the hostel building, they sped up on the staircase by climbing two steps up at a time and made their way to their old room. It was closed so Neil knocked gently.

No response.

He knocked again, harder. Still Silence. Assuming that the occupant was sleeping, he hammered the door. But still, there wasn’t any response. Chinu grew impatient and raised his leg to kick the door but then there was a shuffle inside.

The latch clicked and the door creaked open. To their utter shock, a girl emerged while adjusting her hair. Both froze, stunned and glanced at each other in disbelief.

From behind her, a guy appeared, “Uh…my cousin came to deliver a package.”

“F*ck! A girl in the hostel,” Neil gaped and turned to Chinu, “Yaar, this has changed.”

The girl kept her eyes down, slipped past them quickly and vanished down the corridor.

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(Continued in the next chapter.)

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