Rahul Mehta had never, in his wildest dreams, ever thought that he would, one day, be back in his college as a guest lecturer. It had been less than a decade since he had passed out with flying colours and today the head of the institution was greeting and welcoming him with a pleasant smile.
“No, he couldn’t possibly know what I was like,” thought Rahul with an inward grin. As he walked into the principal’s office, he surreptitiously touched the right corner of the door. Yes, the deep scratch was still there under layers of varnish. He had inflicted it himself, with his penknife, as he and a few of his friends banged on the office door in protest. An inexperienced and newly appointed lecturer had unjustly suspended their batchmate and the boys were hell bent on vengeance. Dr. Subramaniam, the principal in those days, had opened the door just in time to stop it from being kicked down. With practiced ease he talked the boys out of their anger promising to look into the matter. He had kept his word and just measures were taken. No wonder he had been nicknamed Dr. Sambhalo.
Rahul’s eyes swept over the room. The debating trophy was still there on the top shelf. He and Samir, his partner, had won it at the inter college fest Malhar at St. Xavier’s, Bombay. The students had given them a standing ovation when the proud victors had brought the trophy home. So was the shield for creative writing and for dramatics. Rahul felt a surge of nostalgia for his college days, endless cups of tea in the canteen, bunking classes, staying up late to complete assignments, planning extra curricular events, late night parties, college gossip, semester exams and back logs. He could almost hear group the chant of the third year students
‘Dhoom lakkad lakkad lakkad - ho ha ho ha
Ki hum to jeet jayenge - ho
Ki unki khatiya tooti – ho
Ki unki lutiya doobi – ho
Ki hum to jeet jayenge.’
This was called out by the lusty throats of over a thousand students in the auditorium whenever there were any competitions. On numerous occasions, the outsider teams had been cowed into submission by the sheer energy of the home team supporters. The students had debated upon all possible topics – politics, corruption, terrorism, weather, inadequate allowances, strict parents, sibling rivalry, student council, faculty members, college restrictions, girls and, of course, who was linked up with who. Every girl in the college was put under a microscope and dissected, all except Aradhana.
By tacit agreement she was never discussed. Her roots were from a modest family from a smaller town. Although she wasn’t exactly in the league of the college beauties, the twinkle in her eyes and the dimples in her cheeks made her attractive in her own way. She was her own unique self, her big heart more than made what she lacked in inches. She couldn’t pass a wounded pup in the street without trying to do something for it. Aradhana had time for anyone who needed a sympathetic ear. Her innate goodness shone out of her. Rahul had met her the first day when the entire batch of new students were completing the formalities for admission. She had looked lost. Rahul helped her around and made a loyal friend for life. He remembered the day he hadn’t completed his assignment and the economics teacher was in a foul mood promising the severest punishment for all the defaulters. She had quietly passed her copy to him and unflinchingly faced the teacher’s wrath. The teacher too, had softened, no one could be angry with Aradhana. Another time Rahul had spent all his allowance for the month and he had to give the subscription to the dramatics club. No amount of pleading would extend the date to next month. The next day, his dues were cleared. Rahul had no idea who his benefactor was until he noticed Aradhana skipping lunch, which she said she was doing as a fast as per the traditions of her family. Since she had never done this before, Rahul had his suspicions.
First year went by within a flash. He shone in all the co-curricular activities, carving a niche for himself. If his studies were neglected a bit, it was understandable as all his focus and energies were in other directions.
Second year come around and his life changed forever. Chaitali came into his sphere. She was his batch mate, smart, talented, intelligent, good at dramatics and debating. Somehow Rahul had never really interacted with her before. It was her birthday the day the semester began, “C’mon, c’mon, I dare you! Are you going to take it up?” he could hear Ayush and Samirs’ voices challenging him to present her a bouquet of weeds. Rahul, the invincible, took up the challenge, presented it to her, really spoke with her and soon they became an inseparable pair. She matched him step for step in all his interests and activities, an able partner in debating, Juliet to his Romeo. Soon their friendship was accepted all around the campus. This was the best time of his college and along with Chaitali, he reached greater heights than before.
Came third year and life took a dramatic turn downward. His younger brother Nikhil was diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was in the last stage, the secondary growth had spread and affected all the vital organs. The family was shattered. The doctors gave him a couple of months at the most. Rahul quit everything to spend all his time at home. He was badly needed there to boost up the morale of his brother and comfort his aged parents. All of them tried to keep a positive outlook, tried to be cheerful in front of each other but in solitude each went through their own private hell. At night he could hear the faint sobs of his mother and low murmurs of his father trying to comfort her. So many times he would punch his pillow to take out his anger and helplessness. Death, which had formerly been something that happened to others, now became a reality for him.
Rahul’s friends rallied around the family but he withdrew into his shell. College was studies and home was his Kurushetra – to give strength and comfort. Day by day, they saw Nikhil’s face becoming wan and pale, the appetite dropping and the medication increasing. How long would a fragile body be able to withstand the onslaught? The end came soon. One evening he was there, the next morning he had departed with a peaceful smile on his face leaving Rahul to pick up the pieces of his family.
This was the time of make-or-break. Rahul could have given up in a fit of grief and helplessness but the inner core in him would not be defeated by this cruel blow of life. He realized the paramount importance of the gift of life and his entire priorities were shaken. As a result, he started concentrating on his studies. Earlier he had been working towards a management post in the corporate world, now he wanted to get into teaching. It became his life’s ambition to reach out to the tempestuous youth and try to make a difference.
At this juncture in life, he got to know his true friends, his gang of buddies. They would make a point of being around him, providing company in solitude. He was grateful for their concern, even though he was immersed in his grief. Chaitali had moved on to greener pastures when he quit all extra-curricular activities as she was too addicted to the limelight.
The last day of college arrived all too soon. Everyone was drowning in nostalgia, exchanging phone numbers, addresses and promising to write in the pre-computer era, all except Rahul, who kept aloof and did not participate in this at all. He wanted to move on in life and put the entire phase of graduation behind him. This part of his life was inextricably bound up with painful memories of tragedy and loss. He went on to do a Master’s degree and then a Ph.D. from abroad coming back to take up an assignment as an assistant professor in a prestigious management institution.
With a jerk, Rahul came back to the present. The principal was still talking to him. His inward journey had taken a very short span of time but it was the most poignant period of his life. His reverie awakened in him a deep sense of nostalgia and he longed to see a familiar face.
“Dr. Mehta, your lecture on Business Ethics is scheduled forty-five minutes from now” the principal was saying.
“Great. Meanwhile, as there’s ample time, I’d love to go round the campus for old times’ sake. I’ll meet you at the auditorium in half an hour. Just one more question, are there any faculty members from ten years ago?”
“Actually the turnover period is very short, you should know, you are on the faculty now. Hmm… Let me see. Mr. Chaudhary, from Accounts, must have been there in your days.”
“I’ll hop along and look him up and catch up with you later.”
Rahul made his way to the accounts department. Memories were hitting him left, right and centre from all around as he saw the once familiar sights. The wide staircase leading up to the classrooms, the massive wooden door of the library, the passage to the common room, all so well known and yet strange. He remembered Mr. Chaudhary well, an elderly, bespectacled gentleman with a kind smile for all. He knocked on the door and went in as diffidently as a first year student.
“Why, I don’t believe it. Rahul Mehta, after all these years! How are you?” Mr. Chaudhary exclaimed in pleasure.
“Fine sir, it’s really good to see you. How are you?”
“Getting on son, getting on. What brings you here?”
“Sir, believe it or not, I am here to give a lecture.”
“Of course I believe it. You were one of the most brilliant students of this college.”
“Thank you, sir. Sir, is there anyone else here from our days?”
“Well… A new faculty member has just joined. She could be one of your juniors. Here she is now.”
Rahul turned around. The sight of the new lecturer was oddly familiar. It couldn’t be possible, could it?
“Aradhana!” burst out Rahul. “I don’t believe it!”
There was a glow in her eyes and a tiny smile on her face. “I was wondering if it was you who was to lecture today. I saw the name on the notice board.”
Rahul felt a gush of emotions. He realized he had been coping with Nikhil’s passing away by bottling up all his feelings. Well, that might have worked in a way for the grief and anguish, but all the positive feelings of friendship, affection, love and laughter, also were suppressed. The dam of the last few years had burst open. All his repressed feelings surged forth. He now knew what he had been missing and why his life seemed to be lacking some vital element.
“I joined recently. I was teaching in Nagpur” continued Aradhana.
The question drumming Rahul’s mind was – Was she still single? How could he tactfully find out? If she wasn’t, he could still make a graceful exit and curse himself for the rest of his life for letting go of something so precious.
“What about your family? Did they mind your move?” Rahul managed to ask casually.
There was an upward tilt to her lips and a familiar tiny twinkle in her eyes. She knew exactly what he wanted to know. Communication had never needed to be verbal between them.
“My parents are happy for me” she answered.
Rahul felt as if a thousand suns had lit up his world. He surprised her and even himself by taking hold of her hand.
“Let’s have a cup of coffee in the canteen. We have so many years to catch up on.”
