Cotton College, Cotton College...
The geographical location of Cotton College was perfect for any kind of student. The most happening cinema halls, including the ones which played adult English movies, could be reached on feet if the situation demanded. One can easily go for late night shows and walk down to the hostels. For those bookworms the district library was not even 300 metres away. The Rabindra Bhavan, which was adjacent to district library, offered a regular dose of dramas and musicals.
Just in front of the main building of the college was Nehru Park, which happened to be the cheapest dating joint for poor lovers. If you can’t secure a place in this park, Dighali Pukhuri*, just behind the boys’ hostels, provided the second option. Where on earth will you get all these things together within a radius of one kilometre?
But that’s not the end. The most exciting place was Handique Girls' College, cleaved to two of the boys’ hostels. On one bank of the Dighali Pukhuri was this girls’ college and on the other were Cotton’s own girls’ hostels. So, every evening we would religiously take rounds of this ‘historic’ pond and ogle at God’s greatest creations chirping around happily. (Dighali Pukhuri is historic because it’s a silent witness to many love stories.)
I had spent my childhood and teenage among books, so did not want to spoil my precious freedom from parental regime with printed words. Library was a no-entry zone for me. For my mother watching movies was a sin. So, I wanted to see lots of movies and make up for the lost time. Whatever free time I could squeeze out from my movie-watching schedule, I slept. Till then girls did not attract me much; in fact, I was almost a misogynist.
In short, my daily routine was like this: I would get up at 10, catch the first show at 11, come back to hostel by the time dinner bell rings and go back to sleep. I used to watch two-three movies at a stretch. There was nothing beyond movies and dreaming about movies. For a border of SNBC hostel it was misuse of an opportunity sent from heaven. A seat in this hostel ensures that you can watch all the girls in the college from the safety of your room. The small lane between two blocks of our hostel was used as a short-cut by all the girls desperate to catch their lessons on time. I still wonder if there was any urgency or they simply enjoyed the way we teased them.
One year later, this misogynist mastered the art of eve-teasing.
But before that, one evening I landed up in Nehru Park with rest of gang of five. It was 17th September, Viswakarma Puja and the day gang of five was together for the last time. It’s great to be Cottonian in Assam, but not wise to flaunt it everywhere and we did exactly that. Later that night we paid a heavy price for it, especially Bhaskar Bora.
Exactly one year later, on the same day I and Debajit was on the roof of a bus, a la Shah Rukh Khan though we did not sing Chaiya Chaiya.
* Dighali Pukhuri is a pond and a recreational spot.
Just in front of the main building of the college was Nehru Park, which happened to be the cheapest dating joint for poor lovers. If you can’t secure a place in this park, Dighali Pukhuri*, just behind the boys’ hostels, provided the second option. Where on earth will you get all these things together within a radius of one kilometre?
But that’s not the end. The most exciting place was Handique Girls' College, cleaved to two of the boys’ hostels. On one bank of the Dighali Pukhuri was this girls’ college and on the other were Cotton’s own girls’ hostels. So, every evening we would religiously take rounds of this ‘historic’ pond and ogle at God’s greatest creations chirping around happily. (Dighali Pukhuri is historic because it’s a silent witness to many love stories.)
I had spent my childhood and teenage among books, so did not want to spoil my precious freedom from parental regime with printed words. Library was a no-entry zone for me. For my mother watching movies was a sin. So, I wanted to see lots of movies and make up for the lost time. Whatever free time I could squeeze out from my movie-watching schedule, I slept. Till then girls did not attract me much; in fact, I was almost a misogynist.
In short, my daily routine was like this: I would get up at 10, catch the first show at 11, come back to hostel by the time dinner bell rings and go back to sleep. I used to watch two-three movies at a stretch. There was nothing beyond movies and dreaming about movies. For a border of SNBC hostel it was misuse of an opportunity sent from heaven. A seat in this hostel ensures that you can watch all the girls in the college from the safety of your room. The small lane between two blocks of our hostel was used as a short-cut by all the girls desperate to catch their lessons on time. I still wonder if there was any urgency or they simply enjoyed the way we teased them.
One year later, this misogynist mastered the art of eve-teasing.
But before that, one evening I landed up in Nehru Park with rest of gang of five. It was 17th September, Viswakarma Puja and the day gang of five was together for the last time. It’s great to be Cottonian in Assam, but not wise to flaunt it everywhere and we did exactly that. Later that night we paid a heavy price for it, especially Bhaskar Bora.
Exactly one year later, on the same day I and Debajit was on the roof of a bus, a la Shah Rukh Khan though we did not sing Chaiya Chaiya.
* Dighali Pukhuri is a pond and a recreational spot.
posted by Writwik | 8:04 pm
1 Comments:
Love across the Dighalipukhuri on the banks of the luit??..
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