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03nostalgia

ABHINAV GOELby

Papa PJ by Ankesh Mishra

When a bunch of apprehensive teenagers walked into that impressive hotel lobby in Bangalore, none of them had any clue what the next four years had in store for them. A warm speech by Dr B N Suresh, some nervous questioning, and a quick decision to join an institute that was entirely just on paper yet, and there we were, not knowing, but perhaps making history. �e �rst batch of the �rst and only space institute in India was formed.

As Apoorv Mehta’s Orkut Commu-nity for IISTians competed with those made by others while we were still waiting for a joining date to be announced (complete with lobbying et al.), many of us bonded over internet chat and social networks, each trying to impress the other and �nd out more about the people who we were going to spend the four most important years of our lives with. Flipping through those naïve chats, I notice how far we’ve come, from being immature and unnecessarily competi-tive, to having forged friendships that will last a lifetime, with the experience to cherish throughout our lives and the maturity of a grown up, while still not having lost the kid inside of us.

Our very �rst hostel Mepram Mansion at busy Sreekariyam, a small bunch of us stuck at Manvilla, a night-long rehearsal of the Sholay spoof at the Fresher’s Party we threw ourselves, knowledge of the existence of the wondrous ‘Baro�a’, mastery over the Malayalam language (amounting to learning to only two pronounceable words Illa and Che�a), the extreme camaraderie with profs from Mar Ivanios College, the hard labour of eleven hours every Saturday at College of ‘Engrrrring’ Trivandrum, the food on those Saturdays that had us �ocking to Lords’ outside CET only to �nd one day that the restaurant was closed for four days because of a function at some school (TIK), trying to impress any girl or woman within ten feet radius around us while dissing the female species altogether in hostel discus-sions, the hunt for Kerala’s elusive ‘business sense’ which was abandoned a�er it was found out that people here are vaccinated against it, the fact that ‘Mudal Mudal Aaga’

gaming and laptopping, listening to Aakku-lam woes, the Hangover (perhaps not just the movie) and more.

As we leapt into the third year, Conscientia and Dhanak became bigger and consumed most of my time at least. A new batch of students, more hopes, more coupling and strolling around the campus before 9 o’clock. More whining and cursing, a li�le more seriousness. Finally, a canteen.

Fourth year, improved mess food, 1 am canteen dashes, managing to barely scrape through the odd sem, skipping sessions with project guides and worrying about placement �nally giving it up to fate, jubilation at ge�ing it all over with soon, and yet the famous dread of becoming ‘Uncles’.

Here we are now, the good and bad, the highs and lows, all taken in and hoping to come back and be proud of what we’ve done to help IIST be where it is. �anks to IIST and the faculty, to our juniors who made us feel all cool and mature about ourselves, and to all of us for being the awesomest batch IIST will ever see. \m/

To the juniors: I expect to be invited to every DJ night that happens here ever again.

was the college anthem and had the audac-ity to play in our heads at the oddest of times – during the 15-minute a week compulsory mentoring sessions, while writing the Mid Sem Chemistry exam or even while trying to chat up one of the ‘several’ girls that had found their way to IIST, the trip to what was supposedly a palace, to LPSC Mahendragiri (with such awesome food as even their own people had never seen), and then to Kanyakumari, accusations of being hooligans and stealing curtain hooks (!!) from buses and an IIST Day which stopped just short of the family’s �rst wedding. �e �rst year was a breeze.

A new year, a new hostel, and no more cries from Sreekariyam’s ‘inmates’, more bonding between ATF and former Sreeka-riyam, rewired friendships, a phase of active activism with nights spent trying to put into place systems that will bring us at par with the IITs sooner than possible, the birth of Conscientia and Dhanak and another reason to skip studying, boardroom meet-ings with the Director (and the chocolate cakes and banana chips thus involved), an intense passion for hanging out at the famous ‘lagoon’, daily resolutions of exercis-ing ourselves to �tness (culminating in four full jogging trips), more interne�ing,

Articles for Drishtikon may be sent to ankesh.bti@gmail.com