The glory of old

Banaras Hindu University is in deed, a great institution. Despite the four years that I stayed there for my engineering degree and even during the course of my two later visits to the place, the very grandeur of BHU's mansion-esque buildings have never ceased to amaze me. The sprawling hostels, the tree covered pathways, and the vast stretches of lush green fields play their own roles in enhancing the face value of this astonishingly beautiful and huge university.

There was no specific reason for this particular visit of mine. It was just that I was in Varanasi and had to meet my cousin who stays near the university. Since I was in the vicinity, I decided to drop in. My cousin had some work and could meet me only in the afternoon. I had started from my uncle's house in Chowka Ghat early in the morning right after my breakfast, and so I thought it better to complete my BHU visit first in the schedule. An auto rickshaw from the Cantt. railway station dropped me at the gates of BHU and I could see Mahamana Pandit Madan Mohan Malviyaji standing there, watching and blessing the university's hallowed portals.

I decided in favor of a regular rickshaw instead of the auto for my journey inside the campus as the latter would have hardly given me any time and space to watch any and all changes. I was right but wrong, too. I had not really thought of any change in particular but just had the impression that some things would certainly have changed since the last time I was here. However, the changes that I had expected were nowhere to be seen.

BHU was still the same old campus that I (and all my batch mates, I am sure) have been familiar with. Mahila Maha Vidyalaya (WC for the IT-ians) still had the guys waiting patiently for the ever-elusive girls who were busy chatting up elsewhere in the famous phone booth there. Madhuban still had that odd couple sitting there, holding hands and sipping the Pepsi they had bought from the Madhuban Cafe. Faculty of Performing Arts (FOPA) had some enthusiastic people discussing a forthcoming event in full earnest. Although I could catch only a few words, they were enough to fuel my somewhat dormant memories of the college festivals. I could also see the students lining up in front of Maitri Jalpaan Grih for their morning breakfast.

The biggest of the memories came flooding back when I reached the Vishwanath Temple (VT for the IT-ians). The temple was standing, as usual, in all its glory, the benchmark of all buildings in BHU and the guiding tower of the institution. The bevy of shops surrounding VT had no new faces and the lassi shops, the studio, the paav-bhaaji shop, the juice corners, and especially the samosa-tea shops including Bihari's shop were all there, waiting for their customers. Before enjoying a sip of the old days through the mouth-watering delicacies, I decided to pay obeisance to Vishwanath Bhagwan whose blessings have made all that I ever wanted possible.

As has been the norm more often than not, the shoe stall had the phoren maal sitting there, adjusting their cameras and talking some gibberish in their language. It did seem a little odd when I had to pay for keeping shoes in the stall. The BHU Identity Card used to be my only ticket and payment during all my previous visits to the temple. The temple, too, had its share of couples holding hands and there were even a couple of guys in jeans and stylish tees which told me that their probability of belonging to IT-BHU were quite high. My thoughts were vindicated when I saw them vanish round the back gates of the temple.

The special tea and samosa at Bihari's stall were the most exciting part. Sitting at the same place that all of us friends used to make merry for four years made me all nostalgic. The feeling was special not just because this place was a part of my institute. It was special because of the memories that it carried, of the discussions that took place, the plots that were hatched, the people we made fun of, the birthday parties we had...so many memories that I really can't do justice to all of them.

My return journey was through the hostel road (Raja HarishChandra Road for the quizzing enthusiasts). Limbdi Corner (I made a detour), DG Corner, Morvi Hostel were all the same, though a little silent because of the vacations. Birla and Broacha were still as menacing as they have always been in the stories we have all heard at IT-BHU. IMS had a new lecture theatre and auditorium in their name (I could almost imagine the efforts by IT Cultural Wing guys to book it for their events).

Nothing had changed BHU over the past two years and as I was leaving the place, I realized that most probably, nothing would have changed BHU over even longer periods. The institution is so historic that it absorbs any and all changes that its current occupants decide to bring about. The situation was a little different, however, when I moved outside the campus. There were quite a few shops that had mushroomed all over the place. The most notable ones (keeping in mind the latest developments, even amongst the student community) were a number of ATMs and an equally big number of mobile phone shops that littered the Lanka landscape.

Host restaurant had finally lost the battle for survival despite somehow managing to break even in spite of getting milked dry in sponsoring the numerous festivals of IT-BHU. Our branch was the beginner of the Host downfall. How can I ever forget the way we sold the idea to Host owner that two 50% concessions are equal to one 100% concession and how can I ever forget all that followed the Housie stall in the Valentine's Day fete??? The poor guy might not even have got a flat in the high-rise building that has come up in the place where the restaurant used to exist in its entire sponsoring splendor.

Having met my cousin for lunch and a little stroll to the Assi Ghat later, (the weather was exceedingly pleasant owing to the intermittent showers that have been visiting Varanasi over the last few days) I was ready for my next stop, Sankat Mochan. The temple has gained special importance for me ever since I started my Tuesday fasts at the end of my third year in college. I had been thinking of visiting the place for quite some time and after the IIM results and my sister Priya's amazing success in her B.Com examinations, it sure was high time I bowed my head at the temple. The red 'sindoor' and the chants of Hanuman Chaleesa created the mood as the sticky red 'teeka' cemented my ties with this historic Varanasi city yet again.