Dhruvil Doshi, a Y19 graduate from the Department of Physics takes us with him in his journey in charming prose. Dhruvil paints a beautiful picture of the campus experience as seen through his eyes.
Disclaimer:- The views presented below are the author’s own and are not in any manner representative of the views of Vox Populi as a body or IIT Kanpur in general. This is an informal account of the author’s experiences at IIT-K.
And let us begin!
College was cool. Friends, cooler, and everyone had great memories. Briefly, all of us were depressed, and finally, it turned out good—the end.
Mine and every other student’s four years are summarised neatly in these twenty-three words.
So what more does Vox expect of me from this AWL, and moreover, do I have anything new to tell you? I doubt so.
An abstraction of recollections, tied neatly in a fake sense of fulfilment, is too dull, to be honest, so I’ll skip that.
There are two Dhruvils, one known by his friends and one by everyone else. This As We Leave plans to disappoint both. For this AWL, I had multiple ideas, and I will shoehorn each of them to confuse the hell out of you and satisfy my non-existent eloquence.
I guess I am supposed to share some profound knowledge about how one should experience college. Most of what I did never had any real purpose. Just what I felt like. Nothing wise, so sorry about that. ‘My struggle with JEE, academics, PoRs, internships, jobs, higher studies, etcetera’ – read other AWLs; they cover it much better. I am just writing this cause it looks fun, and I do not want to bore you or sadden myself.
So what did I do?
I studied, played around, jumped fences, skipped classes and climbed trees. I tried drugs, danced at parties, loved friends, crashed cars and sneaked onto rooftops. Listened to sad songs on loop, talked – a lot, was silent – even more, wrote songs, vandalised my wall, fucked around with my hair, wore lovely hats, and most of all; cycled about.
My only advice is: Cycle around the campus at three in the morning, alone, with music as your auxiliary. It is fun.
Currently, I am sitting worn out in my kitchen. It’s 2 in the morning. It’s a lonely city, it’s a lonely night. A quiet guilt is compelling me to complete this. I keep postponing and procrastinating. Not cause I do not have anything fun to tell. More cause I cannot seem to do it justice. All I can think of is what I would be doing if I was on campus. Probably sitting outside Hall 1 canteen. Enjoying the last call of not-so-good tea. Sharing a cigarette with friends while waiting for someone to slip on the rain-soaked muddy ground right in front of us. Just so we can get a few guilty laughs. Contemplating whether we should climb some roof or cycle out to legendary chai-wala for some 70s songs. It was so innocent. Not even a month since I left the campus, and it feels like life has paused.
I am overwhelmed with entirely arbitrary memories that I never thought would be so pronounced in my stay at IITK. That ever-changing frappe at CCD, the multitude of SIS guards who have so very kindly reprimanded me, sugarcane juice in peak summer heat, foggy roads during winter nights, hour-long talks with dogs, and the mango trees.
Seems impossible to encapsulate my experience.
The inconsequential days on campus add together, making it home. Let me give you a glimpse.
A morning in January 2023:
It is 8. I am running on a couple of hours. The balcony is open, letting the campus in. The loud uproar of friends outside is not annoying. Rather it gives me solace; at least someone is happy. I am giving myself a moment. Not a moment to catch up or a moment to breathe. But a moment to just sit in. Listen to some music. The graffiti is inviting. The trees are alive. And I can think of nothing. It feels strange that I am thoughtless. It is now 9. I ask the mess worker their name. Give them a chance to tell me how their morning was. They will never say anything but “Good!” Still, ask them. The academic area is beautiful. Does not look like before. Something changed. I guess I did. I should attend my lecture, though I have no clue what the hell is a Green’s function. But the cold grass wrapping my feet is keeping me. A few more minutes, I say to myself. I lay there and talk to the sky. Wonder if there are some aces up your sleeve. Wonder if the universe was made – just to be seen by my eyes. And I sleep there. Again. Closing my eyes.
And now I wanna go up, up and away, from this place that I call home.
I once read that I should write something worth reading or do something worth writing about. One day. One day, I will have done both.
So what’s missing? Aah, poetry. Wrap your minds around this now.
I am not
I am not those cheap shots of vodka drowning my soul.
I am not the dead cigarette butts scattered by my feet,
Telling me to light one more and forget it all.
I am not the helpless boy praying to gods I do not believe in.
I am not happy with what I have become.
I am not the smile while I am holding back tears.
I am not as simple as I want to be.
Do not mistake me for what you think you see.
I am a lie; I haven’t figured out just yet.
A lie in a world of liars. How fitting.
All so insincere.
A neat bouquet of dead hopes shoved down our throats.
Swallowing it with pride. Everyone so austere
But now. Now I know what I would like.
I would like to live a life I am scared of losing.
To not be suffocated by every impression of me.
I would like just to lie down, hear my heart beating,
My existence – enough, effortless, encompassing me.
No clue why I wrote this poem, but well, it is my article, and what the fuck are you gonna do about it.
I will keep this short. Down the line, even if I do not remember much, I will know that I had a great time. What more do I need?
Time to open a new chapter. Somewhere far off. Cause if we don’t leave this town, we might never make it out.
So I guess it’s goodbye then. Ohh, and in case I don’t see you, good afternoon, good evening and good night.
اسمحوا لي أن أكون ذكرى جميلة
Written by: Dhruvil Doshi
Edited by: Gauravi Chandak, Pranav Agrawal
Designed by: Sachidanand Navik
