Reflections: My Journey as a SIMC student

Chapter 3
Griha Pravesh (House warming) and other escapades


The night seemed to have slowed down for some reason. I realized the secret to my wholesome quota of sleep was my Lemon Yellow painted room but more than the room was MY BED and my cylinder pillow which I lovingly called Gol Takia that were prime catalysts.
I was woken up the next morning with a knock on the door. Yawning and stretching lazily on my new crib, I took my wrist watch from under my pillow to check the time.

“Oh God who wakes up a sleeping soul up at 7:45 am!, I wondered as I yawned some more.

Heading towards the door and cursing myself for being so courteous, I was surprised to see 2 early birds on my doorstep.

“Good Morning Raina, we came to fetch you for breakfast, brush and hurry down”.

Poonam, Reshma, Me and the LOVE!! ;)

Yes those two Early birds were Poonam and Reshma, who looked as enthusiastic and bubbly as a child would jump at the sight and smell of new school books waiting to be covered!

Dragging myself out of bed felt like pulling a dead body out of the grave, somehow pulling myself together we reached the mess.  Being at SIMC, or rather any other residential campus, getting up early h as many perks:
a)      The key to making it on time to class is to have breakfast first and then get ready. Saves one a lot of time especially if you have roomies who are comparatively late risers.
b)      The most important point is witnessing and consuming the edible meal of the day- BREAKFAST – the ONLY time of the day when the college mess doesn’t live up to its name thankfully!

Today was one of the many formal occasions of Symbiosis Knowledge Village had to offer, the very first induction of SIU graced by the founding father of brand Symbiosis himself, Dr. Majumdar. His opening lines still haunt me. The image of him on the podium asking “How many of you are from outside Maharashtra?” followed by 99% of the audience raising their hands, to which he graciously smiles and says  “see!! This is the beauty of Symbiosis..!!”

After the event we had our seniors requesting us to stay back for some important announcements, not knowing that staying back would cost us heavy. When we saw two people shutting the huge Auditorium doors, with the villains showing their lusty eyes to us, we knew we felt like damsels in distress!
On the podium was Nalin Agarwal a tall guy with long hair and a moustache---a typical mask of Zorro look (minus the mask and cape of course). Being one of the coolest seniors on campus, he spoke with confidence,

 “Batch 2012..welcome to your official ice-breaking session”.

“Ice breaking session AKA Ragging on stage..aii yii yii! ,” my heart echoed. That did not sound right at all.

“First of all no session is complete without its hosts so,” he picks up our attendance sheet and says “ Rishi Doshi and Chintan Buch would be doing the honours . “

Chintan

There stood two people I had be-friended on SIMC Pune 2012 group in person; both Gujjus but both equally different like London or Tokyo. With a flower on their heads and a formal attire they divided the batch in groups of 10 and assigned us a task to entertain the audience and find the group leader assigned to us.

Rishi

As simple as it may sound, finding the group leader was the toughest of all, considering we had an auditorium full of seniors misguiding and talking irrational to us so as to create a distraction. On finding our first task, we were assigned task number 2—entertain the audience.What I resorted to as means of entertainment is best reserved within the walls and my classmates in college!! As they say say 'Parde mein rehne do, parda na uthaao'

The week followed with umpteen number of classes  with umpteen number of teachers, telling us the same thing umpteen number of times-----“ Media line is not a walk in the park it requires a perfect mix of smartness, hard work and of course dedication.” 

Suddenly I felt transformed in the sets of Shahrukh Khan’s Mohabbatein where there I stood among my other classmates and in front stood Narayan Shanker (In this case my director Chandan Chatterjee) dawning a black sherwaani, bearded and red vermillion on the forehead bellowing out the 3 P’s of Marketing…oops sorry values of the institute----Parampara (Tradition) Pratishtha (Perseverance) and  Principles (Anushasan).
Warping back to reality, I realized one very important thing that day----- SIMC doesn’t follow the 3P’s…more of 3 C’s ---- Connect, Converge and Communicate… *my bad*

Prakrit

Week changed into a month so soon that by the time one said READY…STEADY….it GO-ed!  Time just flew past meeting new faces and new faces everywhere who later on became an integral part of my life.

I remember seeing Prakrit Dhondiyal ---who doesn’t know till date that his ‘Naah’ accent made me smile and Rishi Doshi-- who automatically made me smile sitting right behind me in class, and teasing the shit out of Reshma singing the RKJ song and asking for her precious Qua bottle that she guraded with her life..sigh the sudden twist of fate.

Aabeer

Nimisha

Meeting Aabeer Choudhury and Nimisha Mishra for the first time made me realize that I wasn’t even meant for this place, considering the form of teasing and jokes cracked on me were harsh and fore mostly blunt! Today however these two are an integral part of my life and life without their punches (jokes + sarcasms) seems tasteless :)

Himanshu

And how would my initial escapade be complete without meeting the man who showed SIMC through and through his lens-----Himanshu Punjabi , without whom my ailing grandparents would not have been able to see my new abode.










Faces faces everywhere…Classes classes none to spare…As my 1st assignment and class test approaches, will I be able to sustain what comes my way???

Read on………to Move On!!!

License to Click Part- 1

Discovering the world that I see through the lens of my camera

Reflections : My Journey as a SIMC student

Chapter 2

Room no 556

Having feeling better being consoled and comforted by Parag, I headed back to my new abode, Room 556. It was a hard time looking for it. For one I wasn’t in the frame of mind as I entered with mom and dad, nor in the frame of mind now after they left, to even consider the concept of DIRECTIONS to play in my mind. Taking the help from the hostel guard thankfully, I found my way out.

The moment I stepped into the corridor, another realization dawned upon me, our room was the ONLY junior room in a corridor filled wid seniors! “uh oh” blurted my mind but entering a 3 seater room can be a comforting thought at the same time. The room is large, spacious enough to even play a miniature gully cricket!  3 beds—evenly spaced wid a study table and chair each. Shelves dedicated to pile ur books, puja ghar, food whatever, a cupboard each and a separate washroom and a separate bathing room, and your ready with your ghar grihasti !!

I was greeted with the warm smile from Pooja, who sat on the right side of the room on her bed doing some “khichir pichir” on her laptop (her usual habit that Im now well versed with! ) To my surprise I was greeted with another smile to the girl on my left. She sat there wearing a spaghetti and shorts and before I could ask for her introduction, she smiled and said , “Hi am Mansi”—Mansi Bagga , my roomie no 2.

My first impression about Mansi, was that she was confused with life and am not saying this on the basis of her Hi’s but before she made an appearance. As I was arranging my bed, I saw the two sides who I’ll be spending my 2 years with—while Pooja’s side was neat and clean, Mansi’s side witnessed cyclone Katrina---suit case opened, hair iron lying promptly like a cherry on a cake pile of clothes. However, as time passed the living habits between my 2 roomies interchanged!

Our room was unique for various other reasons---

• Mansi was from PR, Pooja from AD and me from Journalism
• Mansi was XS, Pooja was M and me..well L
• Pooja hardly spoke and when she did we could hardly hear, Mansi had her spurts of talking but I know for a fact she can’t stay without it, and me non-stop bakar party!
• Pooja and Mansi were the only 2 NRI girls in our batch, Pooja was from Dubai, Mansi from Bangkok and Me ..LOLOL who cares I have 2 FOREN maal’s wid me now!!

Together we formed the TERRIFIC trio! And Im glad we continue for round 2 this year again J

My phone buzzed with another message. This time it was another classmate I met on the FB page, Mohnish Bose. He had heard from Parag about my arrival and willingly wanted to take me out on a Campus tour. Considering a sweet gesture I tagged along. We passed by the mess and walked straight to the academic block and I see 2 girls giggling away amongst each other. Mohnish introduces the two as Poonam Nanaware and Reshma Raju Emmatty. For me they are like Romeo and Juliet now, who thought they were meant together but circumstantially separated.

These two, though one of them has now moved on , were the 1^st friends I had here at SIMC. In a way I thank both of them for making me less mellow about my separation with mom and dad.

They took me to what I consider heaven on Earth--- they took me to the amphitheater. In the darkness of the night, I saw the city of Pune gleam from high above like one million fireflies – A view one only recalls seeing as a flight takes off and the city reduces to a Lego toy on a shelf and men reduce to ants.

Sitting high above while the world stands below your feet gives a different high all together, for once you feel like Jack Dawson of Titanic, opening your arms stretched wide open and shouting “am the King of the world” *in this case I’m the princess*. My tears evaporated and my frown inverted I thought to myself “I will make it here” and silently smiled.

We reached the mess around 8:30 ish to have my first meal at SIMC. There is depletion of resources and there is abundance of resources and then there’s SIU mess—a perfect mix of the first to points. But then again as my senior Danny points out “you can eat crappy food every day alone..or you can eat eat crappy food every day in the presence of beautiful women” and FRIENDS if I may add .

Another SIMC ritual was realized as we ate---the power cut ritual, bringing out the beast in all of us as the lights in the mess went kaput for a short time, and where u hear people howling, whistling and doing the  “ooga mooga’s” at high decibel levels till the lights came back on and people behaved as though nothing happened. For the first time in my life I bizarrely wish that power cuts take place as frequently as possible at nights! But, oh the efficient management of SIU!

The deadline to enter the hostel I was told 12 midnight…

"sheesh I had come into a fairytale, the Cinderella deadline was there to prove it now” I jokingly thought to myself and smiled. 

As we walked down, the hostel roadway reminded me of Mamta Banerjee’s meetings on the Esplanade Metro roadway---it was filled people…well sitting down on the roads and the leader of the pack was this tall plumpy looking fellow with the ultimate weapon of war----the  GUITAR!!!

The people, sat there singing to this guy’s tunes, a guy called Vidyadhar Raghvan AKA Viddu, a true gem who wants to be like AR Rahman someday and considers Music and food as his “Fuel” *paradox* for life ;). They say Music heals all wounds and clears all sorrows and for a moment I was actually having fun.

Time flew and the clock struck 12—the crowd dispersed like fluttering pigeons, I enter my room. I see Pooja already fast asleep and Mansi on her laptop. I switch off all lights to call it a day, when I hear Mansi squeal like a small innocent child 

“Am scared of the dark”

Smiling sweetly I turn on the night light and retire for the night. 

My first night in an alien world, in an alien room, no back ups but still a faint hope as to everything being allright……..

What happens with me the next day?

Read on to Move on …..

Reflections : My Journey as a SIMC student

Chapter 1- New Beginnings

They say sunsets bring out the philosopher in a person. It’s not really true- wherever u are and whatever u do the key catalyst to reflect your thoughts down on a piece of paper is MOOD. Be it in the baking sun, or a bad day at work, if u have the mood to write u can churn out quite a few masterpieces (it did work for J.K . Rowling on a moving train didn’t it).

The weather in Calcutta at the moment is every romantic’s delight. The cold wind gushing in, and the little droplets of water spraying on my face through the window, will make every girly girl out here want to be with someone special, holding hands and getting drenched in the rain. For me, the weather works as what works during sunset by the sea side- it’s bringing the philosopher me, out.

As the rain gushes down the streets, I sit and reflect the journey of my life gone by in this one year.  This one year has taught me the art of survival, something that was long overdue in this cocoon called HOME.

The thought of hostel life scared the hell out of me since childhood. I used to consider it a means of doing something really offensive to mom and dad to attain this punishment—sort of like being  a criminal and staying in jail for so and so years. Mom and Dad on the other hand used these “hostel” threats to make humans out of me and bro.

Studying in a Christian missionary school and a Convent  College didn’t help either, rather it lead to conservation of thoughts towards life. I mean if u had teachers and missionaries male bashing in the name of “value education” what do you expect??

Getting a call from institutes like TSJ, TISS, ACJ, XIC, Christ University and SIMC were a sigh of relief . After numerous personal issues, I really required a break from this city. City of Joy didn’t seem joyous at the moment. Narrowing down to SIMC seemed a pretty good decision at that moment. Staying on a hill isolated from the hustle bustle of city life was just what the doctor ordered.

Who knew what I was about to encounter was something more than the idea of “getting away from it all” would do.

Joining SIMC PUNE GROUP 2012 was the first step---made quite a lot of friends  starting with Parag Gopale, whose 1^st interaction wid me was on my FB inbox was whether I was getting a Dell or an Acer laptop. He later on became my eyes and ears of SIMC mentioning all the happenings at campus till my arrival—from the boys hostel madness to just the weather.There was Chintan Buch who enlightened me with the fact I shared a room with a guy in the Boys Hostel and enjoyed this fact more than I could digest it! Kingshuk Dutta , my proposed roomie who I now wish every day of my life to be my roomie.

Joining a week later than the others , had a different flavor to it all. For once u feel like a shiny new toy on the shelf who others die to grab hold of. There were texts, wall posts, inbox messages from people who I didn’t even know from college updating me about every little details of what happened in and around SIMC. Kinda gave me a superior feeling for the first time in my life.

Apprehensions, excitement, sadness all seem to imbibe together in this weird sort of mixture on my mind. The 4 hour flight from Calcutta to Mumbai; and an additional 4 hours drive on the highway to Pune, added fuel to the fire.

I remember the excitement and weirdness felt at the same time when mom and dad sat there in my allotted room no 556 and arranged my stuff. Kinda felt like getting married or something and settiling in my new home *bleh*, when suddenly enters this curly hair chic wid specs, dawning a formal shirt and pants. Pooja Udaikumar was her name, she smiled and greeted me to the room with utmost warmth brimming from her 2 inch smile- my roomie no 1.

The time had come for mom and dad to go and leave me behind. We sobbed, we hugged, we promised to look after ourselves and ultimately we had to do the most crucial thing---- we had to let go. I was now beginning to understand how young Ishaan Nandkishore Awasthi felt when his parents and brother left him fending for himself in the hostel at New Era School, Panchgani. The “ma” song played in the background, as the Indica left the campus, leaving me, more than just teary eyed---wailing buckets.

I sat outside the recreation centre crying as if punished for doing something insanely wrong when a FB notification buzzed on my cell . 

It was Parag and it said “hey ..where are u? u were supposed to come today right? Waiting to see u buddy”

The reply  : “Im outside girls hostel crying..missing ma and pa already”

Meanwhile outside the hostel stood a girl who had been watching me mope like a sad puppy.

“Hey, everything ok?” she asked.

“No, Am sorry its my first time at a hostel, kinda home sick already”, said I.

“Aww I understand, I felt the same when my parents dropped me here..” and before she could say anything further , I felt a warm embrace around me like Munnabhai’s Jaadoo Ki Jhappi. Till today I share a special bond with that angel everyone know as Madhuri Joshi.

“Dunworry, Im in room 625, if u need anything at all” she smiled and left.

Enters Parag who looked as jubiliant as in his FB dp.

“Hey why are u crying? Ur a strong girl ya..dunworry, once u meet new people u feel fine “said he.

Indeed I did encounter many individuals, some I got along well, some not really, some who annoyed me, some who I annoyed.

The next few episodes will showcase how truly adventurous my life at SIMC is. So what if Im a silent observer who seems cut off from the rest,  yet annoying the crap out of some! 

Read on to Move on ;)