Fostalgia , as the annual gathering of Frook College Alumni Association is called, sounds and speaks like nostalgia or yearning for the past.. Fostalgia brings a multitude of sweet and sour memories in its train. More than 38 years have elapsed since I left Farook College after spending 5 years in the same campus. Still Time has failed to erase such memories from my mind since we had an emotional attachment to this institution from which thousands of students have graduated and are now working in different parts of the world. As Peter Kujawinski wrote "with great ferocity I have protected the memory of that time, so that in quite moments I can unwrap it and inhale its scent". When I recall those days I feel like smelling a jasime flower and I am endowed with " serene and blessed mood" as Wordswoth had put it.
The mess hall door of Iqbal hostel where I had stayed used to be closed a few minutes prior to meal timings. The hostel inmates flocked before the door and once the door was open they ran like pigeons running after food grains thrown before them. They were searching for the plates containing more rice or bowls having more mutton or chicken curry. The plates were of the same size and the quantity was the same. But due to human error it was possible that some plates or bowls have slightly larger quantities of food. They had no option to ask for another plate or some more curry as the quantity was limited like ration system. I was most probably the last person to dine and they interpreted it as a gesture of good will, discipline, patience so on and so forth where as the truth was that I had discovered that the curry remaining at the bottom of the pot would be thick and more delicious than what was served in the beginning. .
The hostel day was a memorable occasion. It was more or less like a wedding function except that there were no bride, bridegroom or female invitees. Each inmate could invite his friends from other hostels. The hostel was decorated with colour paper and garlands . Students welcomed their guest from the gate and escorted them to their seat arranged in the courtyard of the hostel.
The teashop close to the college run by Athamakka was known among students as Atoms Hotel . The most favourite item in the tea shop menu was 'Sami' or beef so named after the Samis ( Brahmins )who lived in the nearby vegetarian hostel. It was reported that though they were supposed to shun meat they were stealthily eating beef from there. Thus beef came to be known as Sami. The beef served in his shop had a special appetizing flavour.
During the evenings, we used to walk to the nearby town of Ramanattukara . While walking, the breeze blowing from somewhere refreshed our minds and soothed our souls. It narrated the stories of our kith and kins living in the distant districts . Our chit-chat centered on our families and our thoughts revolved around our parents. The rose flowers in the gardens in front of some houses beside the road smiled at us as if they were telling us not to worry about them. In the evenings we went to the Chaliyar river shore and sat there to share our joys and grievances . The black waters of the river polluted by a factory which dumped its waste to it and its foul smell suffocated us . We were sorry that we had to remain passive spectators to it. I don’t know whether there were environmental workers those days to defend the nature.
The mess hall door of Iqbal hostel where I had stayed used to be closed a few minutes prior to meal timings. The hostel inmates flocked before the door and once the door was open they ran like pigeons running after food grains thrown before them. They were searching for the plates containing more rice or bowls having more mutton or chicken curry. The plates were of the same size and the quantity was the same. But due to human error it was possible that some plates or bowls have slightly larger quantities of food. They had no option to ask for another plate or some more curry as the quantity was limited like ration system. I was most probably the last person to dine and they interpreted it as a gesture of good will, discipline, patience so on and so forth where as the truth was that I had discovered that the curry remaining at the bottom of the pot would be thick and more delicious than what was served in the beginning. .
The hostel day was a memorable occasion. It was more or less like a wedding function except that there were no bride, bridegroom or female invitees. Each inmate could invite his friends from other hostels. The hostel was decorated with colour paper and garlands . Students welcomed their guest from the gate and escorted them to their seat arranged in the courtyard of the hostel.
The teashop close to the college run by Athamakka was known among students as Atoms Hotel . The most favourite item in the tea shop menu was 'Sami' or beef so named after the Samis ( Brahmins )who lived in the nearby vegetarian hostel. It was reported that though they were supposed to shun meat they were stealthily eating beef from there. Thus beef came to be known as Sami. The beef served in his shop had a special appetizing flavour.
During the evenings, we used to walk to the nearby town of Ramanattukara . While walking, the breeze blowing from somewhere refreshed our minds and soothed our souls. It narrated the stories of our kith and kins living in the distant districts . Our chit-chat centered on our families and our thoughts revolved around our parents. The rose flowers in the gardens in front of some houses beside the road smiled at us as if they were telling us not to worry about them. In the evenings we went to the Chaliyar river shore and sat there to share our joys and grievances . The black waters of the river polluted by a factory which dumped its waste to it and its foul smell suffocated us . We were sorry that we had to remain passive spectators to it. I don’t know whether there were environmental workers those days to defend the nature.
By the father
No comments:
Post a Comment