It was the Summer of 2007, when a batch of about 50 students entered a Hostel – a place which was to become their homes for their duration of study in Tezpur University. I was one among those fifty. The Hostel was Brahmaputra Chatra Niwas – BCN Boys for most of us. Though the nomenclature was changed the next year to Brahmaputra Men’s Hostel, it will always be BCN Boys for us.
The
first thing that was on the minds of each new student was Ragging. What are we
going to face in the initial days of stay at the Hostel? Would there be any
physical violence? How are the Seniors and how will be our nature of
relationship with them? These were some of the questions on the mind of most of
the new students. However, we were lucky that we got some of the best seniors
that any junior can ask for. Except for a minor incident, which was blown out
of proportion by the university authorities, there wasn’t any unfavourable episode
during those initial days. Once the University Freshers was over, we all shed
our inhibitions and became our usual self. BCN Boys became our home.
I stayed
at BCN Boys for two years and have been part and witness of numerous incidents occurring
in the Hostel. However, in this write up, I would not mention any such
incident. Rather I would write about those days when we left the hostel after
completing our studies. These last days were a testimony of how dearly we
- the boarders of BCN Boys – loved this hostel; and how this hostel has forged
a strong sense of companionship amongst us.
Even
before our last term examinations were around the corner, the feeling that we
would be leaving the hostel and university were starting to haunt us. One day,
while our end term examinations were going on, I went to one of my friend’s
room. Upon entering his room, I could see that he was packing his bags. On
seeing me enter he stopped packing. I silently went and sat on his bed. He too
took a seat in his chair. After a few seconds of silence, we both started
crying. Those were the first drop of tears that fell from our eyes during those
last days – many more were still to follow.
After
our exams were over, one by one the students started to leave the hostel,
leaving behind the innumerable memories that he shared with his fellow mates.
Those were indeed very hard days. The eyes remained moist most of the times. After
spending most of the time together for two years, the wound of separation was
too much to bear. The day I myself left the hostel was one of the most difficult
days of my life – with my mind refusing to leave. I had left my room and hostel
after shedding gallons of tears, shared between me and my roommate.
Men
usually don’t cry. Although science insists that crying is natural, still it is
expected that men would not shed tears easily. So unless there is indeed a deep
grief, a man hardly sheds tears. So when I saw numerous men (boys) shedding
their tears while leaving the hostel and the university, it shows how deep a
grief it had been - a grief about leaving your home, leaving your loved ones. It
shows how integral BCN Boys were to their lives.
On
my part, I would like to state here that I have been indeed lucky to be a part
of the BCN Boys Hostel – a hostel which held true to its ideals of wisdom and camaraderie.
