Well this is my memoir finally done. Read it and give me feedback.
Many people at the end of college state that how much they will miss college, friends and wish that there still was time before they passed out. I would like to state that I am GLAD to pass out. While some regret the passing of an era; I celebrate the dawn of another epoch.
As an FE, SE and most desperately as a TE I wanted to write a memoir in the magazine. However I thought a memoir was too hallowed an act for anyone else than a BE to write. I often wondered how would a 4 year long story sound like? Now that I finally sit down to pen down this memoir, words seem to have deserted me.
AIT in my case is a story that nearly never was. With a rather high AIEEE merit I chose to take admission to NIT Warrangal. But blame fate or the Naxals who ambushed the same district the next day, my decision got vetoed by my parents. So I landed up at the gates of AIT flabbergasted by how quickly the best laid plans unravel. Thus began the tale of my FE.
My first year room mates and I were ghazal aficionados. Ghazals used to be belted out from my music player all night long. The music would set the tone for the whole flank.Desperate times need desperate measures. To escape certain not so welcome seniors, we got habituated to sleeping at five in the evening and waking up at two at night to do the journals. Of course as part of an all FEs flank in ground G we were better off than many others. But still.
Here I got nicknamed ’Huzoor’. Though only my flank mates who coined the name can fully explain why but I will try to give a hypothesis. My hostel dress was a rather elaborate kurta-payjamas and after twelve at night I used to roam the flank searching for journals to copy and for 'bakar' sessions. Thanks to an intentionally illegible writing and drawing , I used to distribute work to others on behalf of seniors and never really be the one doing it. My royal style I believe in the end got me named ‘Huzoor’. In fact the name later on became so popular many of my batch mates knew me only by my nickname for a very long time.
It was in my first year also that I became part of the Magazine Board. And it’s the Mag Board that makes the whole AIT experience worth the trouble. Strange how it began though! I nearly didn’t make it to the interviews because the news never reached me.Mag Board has moulded me in many ways by giving me wonderful oppurtunities to pursue what I desired.Even as a BE now, when the old have given way to the new, Mag Board still has a special corner in my heart. And this feeling may last forever. I look at ‘eMAGe’ and I know that a whiff of me shall remain in every following issue.
Engineering is not a degree. It’s an experience. The submissions are “mission impossibles”. Engineering at AIT has been fun to put it mildly. Of course maybe I had too much fun, but then again no regrets. Tragically not all papers are one-night stands. Its only in engineering that one recognizes the importance of a 40. As part of a batch which had a history of mass downs I am proud to say I shared all the experiences. EDC ,T.O.C. and M-III for the AIT Comp batch of 08 probably were the biggest obstacles in the completion of engineering. But the clouds did part and most of us cleared those subjects sooner or later.
Four years of lectures seem so insignificant right now. But there are so many memories. Megha smacking her head against the desk with explosive force during a dozing moment. Anurag Chopra trying to divert a question by saying “This is so easy that even Ankush can explain it. Varun Singh coming to lectures after two weeks and having a doubt within ten minutes. Garima whose voice was enigmatically elusive.Praneet getting up in class to be dangerously frank.Santosh Rathore and his improntu khattes. Chits being passed in class. As for myself I can only hope that people remember me.
Nearly four years have passed since I came to AIT. I look back at the Ashraf of that age and I can’t recognize myself in the mirror. I see a stranger. The loss is perhaps of that elusive thing called innocence. And it is true for each and everyone of us. We lie a little too much, are a bit too cruel and cunning at the edges and are just too self-centered for comfort. Like the mighty Beowolf of the legend I believe we have made a pact with the devil. The only question is will the price that we shall pay worth the pact.
Finally as I end my final article for Srijna,I feel an unexpected tug at my heart. It’s a long association coming to an end. Kudos to Comp Dept for being so wonderful to all of us, ciao Mag Board and a round of cheers to all my friends and everyone else whom I have been unable to name for the lack of space.
There are moments and friends I shall always cherish. While there will be friends who shall remain close fighting a duel with time, others shall drift apart. This is fate. But I hope that whenever I shall come across any batch mates, we shall not eye each other as strangers but embrace each other as long lost friends.
Amen.
Syed Ashraf Husain
B.E. Comp
Many people at the end of college state that how much they will miss college, friends and wish that there still was time before they passed out. I would like to state that I am GLAD to pass out. While some regret the passing of an era; I celebrate the dawn of another epoch.
As an FE, SE and most desperately as a TE I wanted to write a memoir in the magazine. However I thought a memoir was too hallowed an act for anyone else than a BE to write. I often wondered how would a 4 year long story sound like? Now that I finally sit down to pen down this memoir, words seem to have deserted me.
AIT in my case is a story that nearly never was. With a rather high AIEEE merit I chose to take admission to NIT Warrangal. But blame fate or the Naxals who ambushed the same district the next day, my decision got vetoed by my parents. So I landed up at the gates of AIT flabbergasted by how quickly the best laid plans unravel. Thus began the tale of my FE.
My first year room mates and I were ghazal aficionados. Ghazals used to be belted out from my music player all night long. The music would set the tone for the whole flank.Desperate times need desperate measures. To escape certain not so welcome seniors, we got habituated to sleeping at five in the evening and waking up at two at night to do the journals. Of course as part of an all FEs flank in ground G we were better off than many others. But still.
Here I got nicknamed ’Huzoor’. Though only my flank mates who coined the name can fully explain why but I will try to give a hypothesis. My hostel dress was a rather elaborate kurta-payjamas and after twelve at night I used to roam the flank searching for journals to copy and for 'bakar' sessions. Thanks to an intentionally illegible writing and drawing , I used to distribute work to others on behalf of seniors and never really be the one doing it. My royal style I believe in the end got me named ‘Huzoor’. In fact the name later on became so popular many of my batch mates knew me only by my nickname for a very long time.
It was in my first year also that I became part of the Magazine Board. And it’s the Mag Board that makes the whole AIT experience worth the trouble. Strange how it began though! I nearly didn’t make it to the interviews because the news never reached me.Mag Board has moulded me in many ways by giving me wonderful oppurtunities to pursue what I desired.Even as a BE now, when the old have given way to the new, Mag Board still has a special corner in my heart. And this feeling may last forever. I look at ‘eMAGe’ and I know that a whiff of me shall remain in every following issue.
Engineering is not a degree. It’s an experience. The submissions are “mission impossibles”. Engineering at AIT has been fun to put it mildly. Of course maybe I had too much fun, but then again no regrets. Tragically not all papers are one-night stands. Its only in engineering that one recognizes the importance of a 40. As part of a batch which had a history of mass downs I am proud to say I shared all the experiences. EDC ,T.O.C. and M-III for the AIT Comp batch of 08 probably were the biggest obstacles in the completion of engineering. But the clouds did part and most of us cleared those subjects sooner or later.
Four years of lectures seem so insignificant right now. But there are so many memories. Megha smacking her head against the desk with explosive force during a dozing moment. Anurag Chopra trying to divert a question by saying “This is so easy that even Ankush can explain it. Varun Singh coming to lectures after two weeks and having a doubt within ten minutes. Garima whose voice was enigmatically elusive.Praneet getting up in class to be dangerously frank.Santosh Rathore and his improntu khattes. Chits being passed in class. As for myself I can only hope that people remember me.
Nearly four years have passed since I came to AIT. I look back at the Ashraf of that age and I can’t recognize myself in the mirror. I see a stranger. The loss is perhaps of that elusive thing called innocence. And it is true for each and everyone of us. We lie a little too much, are a bit too cruel and cunning at the edges and are just too self-centered for comfort. Like the mighty Beowolf of the legend I believe we have made a pact with the devil. The only question is will the price that we shall pay worth the pact.
Finally as I end my final article for Srijna,I feel an unexpected tug at my heart. It’s a long association coming to an end. Kudos to Comp Dept for being so wonderful to all of us, ciao Mag Board and a round of cheers to all my friends and everyone else whom I have been unable to name for the lack of space.
There are moments and friends I shall always cherish. While there will be friends who shall remain close fighting a duel with time, others shall drift apart. This is fate. But I hope that whenever I shall come across any batch mates, we shall not eye each other as strangers but embrace each other as long lost friends.
Amen.
Syed Ashraf Husain
B.E. Comp
4 comments:
Huzoor,
This is a really sad post. And although you say you are glad to be out, you list your memories - which I assure you build up over time.(at least the good ones) True about the friends though, some you forget, some forget you, some stick with you, some you forget and then reconnect, some whom you never got to know and now are your best friends, its just the way life is. pple change. for better or worse. whether we think change is good or not, its going to happen.
its always great to write for a college newspaper, any newspaper for that matter. Many of my lunch breaks during classes were spent not reading the wall street journal or the likes, but the college newspaper and the editiors and readers sections. =)
" To escape certain not so welcome seniors".I have never gone through the hazing process. You should definetly blog about this.
Thanks
More than sad, it is engineered to tug at hearts. And having had some feedback I believe I have succeeded.
I agree change happens. I like to believe I goad myself into accepting and looking forward to change.
There are many things which in an ideal world we would not want to do but this is not ideal world.
I am glad to be out of the college. I will of course miss all the great people. As I read somewhere it is the people we meet who make the journey worthwhile or simply a waste of time. And I have met some great people and friends here.
I know these relationships will change. I just hope I can handle all the changes. The future holds great promise.
Anyway well writing is a passion and I actually don't have a choice. Writing is an escape and no one knows it better than the write himself/herself.
U flatter me with the thing about reading newspapers in some breaks. Thanks. ;)
Anyway hazing or ragging as we call it out here is interesting. I have gone through a long process. As a first year student I hated it but now I am not so sure. They break u down to pieces but the person who emerges is stronger. THe problem is this that sometimes many people cant handle it.
Ragging is not fun. What I can be proud of is that I survived it.
that's good if u committed to making chnges in ur life i think that;s the only good point of ur article and mirror also teach u something that this world is like a mirror if u face it smiling it smlies right back i hope u got my point
@ maggy
I am not a great fan of change but I have learnt the hard way that we cannot escape change. Unlike an ostrich we just cant hide our head in the sand and hope that it will go away. We simply can't run from the vicissitudes.
And I am crestfallen. In a memoir of four years, you found only one good thing. ;(
But thats the thing about writing. One never knows what someone else will like.
Ah yes, the world smiling idea. Yes I believe in it but its more like I think there is nothing in the world to be worried about,no tension worth taking. Coz time my friend never stops.
On the other hand I also stand by- the more crap one is willing to take, the more the world will give him\her.
I hope I got ur point .<;)>
bye tc
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