Nostalgia is an emotional connect with the past. It is very personal and emanates from the innermost recesses of one’s heart. I cherish fond memories of my alma mater, Union Christian College, in Aluva where I spent memorable years of my student life during 1964-67. When I went for the alumni meet in 2006 as a guest speaker, 40 years later, I meandered along the sprawling residential campus. The classes of our venerable professors which we listened to with rapt attention during those politics-free academic atmosphere, the pranks we played on each other in Chacko Hostel, the exuberance of youth, the playboys and beauties who led the fashion parades—all remembered as a panoramic view of endless wonders.
UC College, which celebrated Navathi a few years ago, held many distinctions. Four laymen who had their higher education in Madras Christian College put their heads and hearts together to start an educational centre in early 1920s. I feel UCC was the first successful Christian ecumenical experiment in Kerala since it was pioneered by four laymen who belonged to four denominations. When the Mahatma visited the college in the first half of last century, he planted a mango sapling in front of the oldest building of UCC built in Gothic architectural style. It still stands amid benign foliage.
I’m indebted to my college in many ways—academic, co-curricular and social. Five men’s hostels and two for women, homes for resident wardens and half a dozen big playgrounds gave the college a gurukul-like ambience. It was in the simmering waters of the Periyar that I learned swimming. My swimming guru was my hostel mate who later became my professor.
On the eve of Shivratri, there was no roll-call in hostel and we were free to spend time on the sand bed of the Periyar, watching over the multitude of humanity and a variety of artefacts and merchandise in makeshift shops.
One of the best moments then was ducking when students were free to pour water on others. The similar highlight in hostels, kick-started by senior students, was pouring water on our senior-most warden. An unassuming man with a pure heart, he took it sportingly with goodwill towards all and malice towards none.
The college library with its calm, serene atmosphere had a profound influence on me. Every hour spent there brought to my mind a memorable line by Thomas Gray—“all the air a solemn stillness holds”.
Senior professors used to play games in the playgrounds. The management used to hold a tea party for outgoing students at the end of academic year and it was an honour for me that I was selected as a valedictorian to speak on the occasion representing the sentiments of my fellow students. Hail thee, alma mater!