Nestled in a city called Aligarh known for its renowned university, AMU, is a small world of Abdullah Hall. Rich and diverse in its inhabitants, architecture and life, seven hostels in this hall absorb everyone in totality only to paint them in its own colours. Old buildings of Indo-Saracenic style encasing grand arches and colonnades, 6m high ceiling in rooms to bunker beds, it houses all kinds of uniqueness. Praises to an amazing campus with lush greens and fascinating biodiversity, Abdullah is a haven for beautiful peacocks, cats and birds (now a rare sight). With an appreciable cultural diversity it imbibes in itself an inherent character commendably rich (sans bias). But what is even more exciting is the bustling and never before like lifestyle here. If I was to say about life at Abdullah it would go like “It breaks u, it makes you, shapes you and you find some lessons for life you might get nowhere else.”
A child, very pampered and privileged, enters the premises and ambience calls for shredding the comfort zone and stepping into a life full of life. Initial days in Abdullah are not a cake walk definitely, it loudly welcomes you to a boarding culture with alternate Sundays for outing within a stipulated time. On top of it you fight the anguish of sun at its worst, some days you would not even find water and wonder what was so wonderful about the Uni that you competed an entrance for 60 seats amongst 25000 students. Few would go back but those who pull through this torment last forever.
You might have never fetched a glass of water for yourself at home but here you will be a bead in an endless queue for eating the bare essentials of a dish called chicken curry. You might distantly relate to the shape, consistency and flavour from the last chicken you might have savoured at home, on an outing or at local guardians’. But nevertheless you won’t complain but stand in the line waiting for your number because you might as well manage to get two Rasgullas with it one fine day. Another special mention would be an attempt to submit (extremely affordable) fees at Canara bank, where if generously led to first position, you would maybe pay everyone else’s fees in gratitude.
And how to forget the battle with mosquitoes. You will be amazed at your dedication in putting up the nets every night, under the 1850s fans devotedly quavering over seven people in a room, to find a sound sleep. And just when you would have started dreaming of Switzerland and those seemingly far dreams a reality check would pop in. And suddenly you will wake up with a sting of mosquito right on the cuticle of your thumb or the tip of your toe or a part of your body you might have never known even existed. And through the dim lights of corridor or mosquito coil or repellent you would see an army had almost attacked you and there is something very sweet about your blood definitely. Painful and itchy, drenched in sweat, you will fathom to sleep few more hours because what is to follow is lectures by Mr. T, Mr. H, Mrs. S and sorts. And you definitely don’t want to sleep in the class.
Past this battle through the night you will wake up to a beautiful morning with cool breeze, dew droplets on grass and a peacock somewhere in the lawn. If you witness the morning prayer, day would even be more happening. Sunrays would start filtering and light up whole Abdullah which would by this hour be witnessing a rush at another level. There would be queues in the washroom to take bath and all, some of your peers who hardly made it through night would still be sleeping and complaining of all sorts of body ache and headache and what not. You will warn them against attendance shortage but for now only sleep seems to top the list of priority. Some others would already be dressed and heading to dining hall with bags packed and homework done.
Classes in +2 would never be so engaging if there wasn’t each one of the peculiar teacher the way he/she was. 4₹ mini pizza at canteen to jumping from windows of classrooms after attendance, the premises witness every adventure. Some merely dragged through grades with punji of maths (bible to our dear maths teacher) while some managed H.C.Verma, Resnick and names enough to give me more sleepless nights. I hardly was over my trauma of leaving home when people talked about hours a day they were studying. And my only thought was what the hell is going around. Luckily enough with little brains endowed by generous genes of my mother, I managed to get decent grades and to the amazement of my dear friend I prayed some extra time hiding from her for all that I scored.
Everything about Abdullah hall is absolutely Shahi (Royal). From food, to painting on the wall of dining hall in Old Wahidia to the massive gates, few giant rooms, lizards and not to forget the royal Indian Cuisine. And then never ever forget to address the seniors (more profound than The President himself) without respect. You are human and you err, but if the dear senior doesn’t approve of it you have to admit the crime in shahi sabha (Royal gathering) with an utmost repentance stating “Aisi Gustakhi phir kabhi nahi hogi, maaf kar dijiye aapa” (this sort of mistake shall never be repeated, I beg your pardon). If you have to flaunt your namak wala toothpaste trust me shahi maidan and shahi raatein of Intro aren’t the best days. If you could not resist your closeup smile, only a spittoon or a quintessential grave would be seeked for your shahi hansi and u would have to spit it away forever for those slots of your day until your favourite Aapa unwraps the dupatta on your head.
Let alone the saga of Intro shake your life that you would now hear of the ghost stories in halls of Abdullah. If ghosts would be too dreaded to take a dig on you, the dogs would not spare anyways and if they don’t manage to scare the shit out of you on that vehemently scary night they will hold the grudge and affinity towards your freshly washed clothes. If lucky, you might find pieces of it littering in the lawn or else they will be a memory thereon. Not only will you regret this loss of your favourite pair of tee but also your roomie who already started counting it as hers.
Abdullah hall never sleeps and such is the truth, one or the other bunch would be loitering around, some gossiping, some studying, some fixing the marriages made in heaven. And then there come the weekends which are so precious that what would 15th August mean to you as much as this Sunday where the gates of Abdullah are opened to a world outside. And trust me dress rehearsals and makeup bouts aren’t the thing of only chick flicks and cosmopolitan, it is a story of every room in Abdullah. The only day when you are unleashed to the sumptuous market of Amir Nisha, date or no date, has to be perfect. And this day isn’t a retreat only within the walls of Abdullah but the fire indeed is on both the sides. Trust me Amir Nisha floods with Hoors and Wooers unlike any other days. And the whole market is bustling with bargain boiling down to ₹ 150 for any item.
Whether you talk about the self-proclaimed lover’s park at the entrance besides provost office or excitement and fervour of new lovers, Sunday visiting area of Abdullah hall definitely is a revisit to legendary love stories. It might take you back to days of eternal love -young girls blushing and guys at epitome of chivalry. And the guys who make to this visiting area are deemed officially as ‘Cheetahs’ amongst their peers.
Then, some days would only go by goofing around but still too busy to wash the dishes breeding all kinds of fungus. And on some days a lucky chap will land up for a rock show in an all-girls zone and ultimately run to save his life from the ripped off decency of all times of these ladies. And if ever anyone of you have heard of Aligarh’s very own Carnival you should see how royally are the ladies escorted by the ‘anti Romeo squad’ safe in their shelter around the Numaish. There is something about the Poori and Halwa of this place especially with an appetite for being intrinsically an Alig.
You will get to live a life upbeat with today’s world yet laid back in a 70s/80s era in sync of the stories your parents might have told you and trust me it is way exciting. Head to the fax centre (oh yes they existed) and phone studios where in my time we would line up to receive call from our parents (because Nokia 3300 was a luxury back then) and how fascinating it was in it own ways. This place is an ocean of love beyond boundaries, selflessness, unity, innocence and care. The bonds between classmates, senior junior are not just relations but so substantial that you find a home away from home. You never pay when with a senior and never hesitate when with a friend. Once found, they will stay for life and death. Sharing and caring are two mantras that keeps the life beautiful in this sweet chaos. And then you find some brainy heads who proudly hail from Bihar, being one of the most generous people you will know, have unmatchable beauty inside out, and ye maths to aise banate hai mano bhaji. And your bubble of stereotyping breaks at this moment and you take a lesson of not generalising anyone. If u find the right people, journey in Abdullah (the way I did Alhamdulillah) could not be any better.
P.S. This account is purely based on personal experiences and is true to its core. It is a rendezvous with past which is like so homogenous in me, I cannot even think of my life without it. Abdullah is a world in itself as beautiful as it gets!
Any resemblance to any character is purely intentional and should be taken in best spirits ;). Cheers!!
For the lost love of writing...And to the lost girl with passions so many!! 