My college established in the small,
yet cultured, town of Kumbakonam in 1854 was the oldest and prestigious one
around the locality and well known as 'The Cambridge of South India' for two
reasons.
Just as Cambridge is sitting on the river Cam, the Kumbakonam college took its roots on the banks of river Kaveri. It
followed Cambridge's footsteps in
holding the festivity of regatta annually.
Just as Cambridge is one among the
premier educational institution in UK this institution too had praise worthy
and renowned teachers like the 'grandfather of Tamil literature' Mr. U. V.
Swaminatha Ayer and students who became internationally famous, like the mathematics genius Mr. Ramanujam.
Our college was a spacious one with
big verandahs and well ventilated class rooms. But the benevolent management
bent upon providing more oxygen to the student's brain activity along
with the cool breeze from river Kaveri
had fixed huge cloth fans covering the width of the room called 'punkhas' and appointed
a person called 'punkawalla' to operate the system by pulling it with the ropes
attached! And whenever professors tend to put the students into deep slumber
the somber 'punkawalla' provided the needed entertainment for an hour with his
nodding sleepy head yet engaged thoroughly in his work!
But this was the story passed on by
our progenitors since by the time I went to college I just saw the remnants of
the old system, dirty old torn punkhas in the middle of the room and the
management decided that the cool breeze from mother Kaveri was more than enough
for our brain activity and installing the electric fans was immaterial!
In the era of minimal transportation
the students usually walked the mile to their respective educational
institutions and I was no exception.
Even though the college sojourn was similar to that of school there was a bit of a variation, a more
romantic one at that ! There was a walk
bridge over river Kaveri
connecting the road to our college. The cool breeze of this stretch indeed had the efficacy to take
away the tiredness of the long road walks! Hugh trees on the college side would
perpetually play with the flowing waters
making me ache for a seat amongst them.
You may wonder what was the
problem in sitting there and why should I ache for it? After all it was
your own college!
I beg to differ.... Our existence as
girls in that coeducation college at the end of fifties was a very different
one and it would be hard to believe our restricted existence by the modern day
college folks.
While our college campus was a huge one we girls were confined to the 'two
room prison' very close to the principal's office. We were not allowed even to participate on
the weekly flag hoisting and our salutes to mother India travelled from the
verandah of our rooms!
And there was another adjacent room
for the odd lady lecturers who
occasionally got transferred and whose only aim during this phase of their
life was to get a transfer to another
place as soon as possible and were capable of achieving their goal by hook or
crook!
While the boys enjoyed the
cool shades of the trees on the river bank to deliberate on political
situation, to gossip and for a few scholastic ones to study we the outcast
group were cocooned inside the 'two room prison'! The exception to this rule
was the regatta day. Like Cambridge our college too excelled in this sports and
on this festive day the management allowed
the girls to gather and enjoy the water sports on the shades of the
trees whose lower branches were in perpetual embrace with the Kaveri waters!
While there were facilities for the
boys to participate in various games including the prestigious lawn tennis and a rowing
club with a tank for beginners and practitioners, we the lesser beings
were destined to walk on the bridge over river Kaveri as soon as the classes
were over!
If this was the story on the
outside precincts, the class room were even more claustrophobic.
In those days it was customary to move to different classes after every hour of
lecture. It was a good system which allowed one
to relax and stretch before dealing with a new lesson. While the boys
entered the classes and seated themselves freely and comfortably the girls had
to wait outside till the lecturer entered the class. Our seating arrangement
was restricted to the first two rows closer to the door. And it was compulsory
to leave two more rows behind us for the boys to seat themselves. And after the
lecture hour it was obligatory on the part
of the lecturer to wait in the class
till we girls moved out!
The election process for the college
president and various other posts for the year was a properly fought one and by
default a male bastion, capable of
ending in big squabbles and quarrels similar to the political ones! During this
period the fathers took charge of protecting their girl child and lead her
through the vulnerable bridge where the boys vied with one another with trays
of scented roses and bit notices trying to attract the attention of all and sundry
and especially the girls. Like the new brides of the olden days the paternal
instinct made sure the that their girls heads were properly bent till they
reached their 'two room prison'.
If this was status in an educational
institution the one which was supposed to
open up our mind we could gauge the level of social conditioning in the households.
It was customary for the girls to go
to the college in cluster if they lived
in the same street and we were no exception. The mother of one of the street
mate was paranoid about sending her girl child to the college. She made sure
that her dressing was indeed more like a purdah rather than a proper sari for a
college going girl, and a look at her would remind one of the
medieval Victorian skirt bulging away on all sides! Her daily dose of
advice consisted of bent head, nil eye contact, no talk with the other sex and
return back on time with girls! And I was elected as the de facto guardian
angel to monitor her behaviour. If on a
particular day she didn't return from the college along with me she would be
hysterical cursing the whole college system in not allowing the girls to be
back home on time. Her extreme worries lead her into health problems. In that
fatherless household the forward thinking brother's efforts to give a good
education to his younger sister became futile.
Irrespective of the ranting from his sister, the man was compelled to
arrange for her marriage but appeased his conscience by choosing a highly qualified match!
I would have never faced such a problem as my
parents especially my mother was a revolutionary of her era bent upon giving
equal education to her girl children too!!
Like our nose getting adjusted to
bad smell in the course of time, we in our checkered coeducation life started
enjoying our existence in spite this limited freedom. The exchange of variety
of heady scented jasmines on a daily basis and double tiffin boxes on days goodies were prepared at home perked up our
camaraderie and we slowly became a very close knit gang to the extent we planned
for a trip to the city of Madras, the dream land of every Tamilian!
And it all happened because of our
political science lecturer, whom we nick named as 'rain man'. Instead of using
his allotted podium this man had the notion that being closer to the students
and raining his wisdom oozing saliva
along with his lectures was the proper way of propagating knowledge and we the
girl students occupying the compulsory front rows were his victims while the
boys found their escape routes at the back benches! Yet he was a dedicated man, a great fan of
Queen Elizabeth the second. We came to know of this interesting facet when he
was dealing with the unwritten Constitution of the English. On that particular
day he passed on the information that the queen was making a three day visit to
Madras and that we should be lucky and blessed to have a 'darshan' of his
'goddess'! Enchanted by his assertive declaration we decided on a trip to
Madras indifferent to the scolding from various quarters of the household! And
our justification was that this visit was an imperative one in our learning curve in political science!!
This successful execution without
the knowledge or support from our
classmates of the other sex creating respect and reverence on our capability.
Another incident which happened during the college days left an indelible
mark in our life! There was a birth in
the family of one of our friends and her sister had delivered a baby boy. In the family of four
sisters the boy baby doubled the happiness and for the naming ceremony she
invited all of us for lunch. She suggested that we could come home during the
lunch interval and return back for the next hour of lecture. On that appointed
day as the gong went off we crossed the bridge carrying a gift for the baby. As
we entered the house there was a shouting" Don't touch... don't touch.....
go away! We were taken aback and
retreated our steps back to the
front door. But our friend came running saying
"Granny is bit orthodox. you should
have gone on the side she had dried her clothes." After a thorough wash we
entered a room.
"Can we see the baby?" we
thought we would give the gift and wish the baby before the lunch.
"The baby is sleeping . Can you
give it to me please? Come and have your lunch. You have to go back to the
class" She literally hurried us!
It was indeed a sumptuous vegetarian
feast except that we felt something was
amiss. No one entered our room to serve
or wish us. If only this royal feast was in my place my mother would
have made it a grand occasion of it with her friendly gesture.
"All the fingers are not
equal." I philosophised
As we thanked our friend and bade
good bye a booming voice from inside said "Is the cow dung ready? Clean
the place at once."
We ran out of the house and our innards were revolting to transfer its
festive content into a bitter vomit to pour out un to the street.
The Brahminical orthodoxy
was at its zenith and especially in a place where majority belonged to
that faction and unknowingly we became the victims of this humiliation and
indeed made a haunting impression.
Some years back we were there in the place.
The beautiful Kaveri river had turned to a receptacle of plastic waste with
small drains from the nearby eateries joining the gang! The morning glory
bushes coated with dust the with
the fast moving transportation added to
the misery of the scenario!
The orthodox street where we had our
life lesson had modified itself into
offices and shops and people roamed freely into that sanctum sanctorum sans the
dread of humiliation!
While on one hand, I was indeed
elated by this metamorphosis, on another count my heart ached for the beauty
and serenity of the old days.
