8/6/2019 The Sounding Rocket Vol 1 Issue 1
3/10
Tumko bhula na payenge...
ROCKETTHE
SOUNDING03nostalgia
ABHINAV GOEL
by
Papa PJ by Ankesh Mishra
When a bunch of apprehensive teenagers
walked into that impressive hotel lobby inBangalore, none of
them had any clue whatthe next four years had in store for them.
A
warm speech by Dr B N Suresh, somenervous questioning, and a
quick decisionto join an institute that was entirely just onpaper
yet, and there we were, not knowing,
but perhaps making history. e rst batchof the rst and only space
institute in India
was formed.
As Apoorv Mehtas Orkut Commu-nity for IISTians competed with
those made
by others while we were still waiting for a joining date to be
announced (complete with lobbying et al.), many of us bondedover
internet chat and social networks, eachtrying to impress the other
and nd outmore about the people who we were goingto spend the four
most important years ofour lives with. Flipping through those
navechats, I notice how far weve come, from
being immature and unnecessarily competi-
tive, to having forged friendships that willlast a lifetime,
with the experience to cherishthroughout our lives and the maturity
of agrown up, while still not having lost the kidinside of us.
Our very rst hostel MepramMansion at busy Sreekariyam, a small
bunchof us stuck at Manvilla, a night-longrehearsal of the Sholay
spoof at the FreshersParty we threw ourselves, knowledge of
theexistence of the wondrous Baroa, mastery
over the Malayalam language (amounting tolearning to only two
pronounceable wordsIlla and Chea), the extreme camaraderie
with profs from Mar Ivanios College, thehard labour of eleven
hours every Saturdayat College of Engrrrring Trivandrum, thefood on
those Saturdays that had us ockingto Lords outside CET only to nd
one daythat the restaurant was closed for four days
because of a function at some school (TIK),trying to impress any
girl or woman within
ten feet radius around us while dissing thefemale species
altogether in hostel discus-sions, the hunt for Keralas elusive
businesssense which was abandoned aer it wasfound out that people
here are vaccinatedagainst it, the fact that Mudal Mudal Aaga
gaming and laptopping, listening to Aakku-
lam woes, the Hangover (perhaps not justthe movie) and more.
As we leapt into the third year, Conscientiaand Dhanak became
bigger and consumedmost of my time at least. A new batch
ofstudents, more hopes, more coupling andstrolling around the
campus before 9oclock. More whining and cursing, a lilemore
seriousness. Finally, a canteen.
Fourth year, improved mess food, 1
am canteen dashes, managing to barelyscrape through the odd sem,
skippingsessions with project guides and worryingabout placement
nally giving it up to fate,
jubilation at geing it all over with soon,and yet the famous
dread of becomingUncles.
Here we are now, the good and bad,the highs and lows, all taken
in and hopingto come back and be proud of what wevedone to help
IIST be where it is. anks to
IIST and the faculty, to our juniors whomade us feel all cool
and mature aboutourselves, and to all of us for being theawesomest
batch IIST will ever see. \m/
To the juniors: I expect to be invitedto every DJ night that
happens here everagain.
was the college anthem and had the audac-
ity to play in our heads at the oddest oftimes during the
15-minute a weekcompulsory mentoring sessions, while
writing the Mid Sem Chemistry exam oreven while trying to chat
up one of theseveral girls that had found their way toIIST, the
trip to what was supposedly apalace, to LPSC Mahendragiri (with
suchawesome food as even their own people hadnever seen), and then
to Kanyakumari,accusations of being hooligans and stealing
curtain hooks (!!) from buses and an IISTDay which stopped just
short of the familysrst wedding. e rst year was a breeze.
A new year, a new hostel, and no morecries from Sreekariyams
inmates, more
bonding between ATF and former Sreeka-riyam, rewired
friendships, a phase of activeactivism with nights spent trying to
put intoplace systems that will bring us at par withthe IITs sooner
than possible, the birth ofConscientia and Dhanak and another
reason to skip studying, boardroom meet-ings with the Director
(and the chocolatecakes and banana chips thus involved), anintense
passion for hanging out at thefamous lagoon, daily resolutions of
exercis-ing ourselves to tness (culminating in fourfull jogging
trips), more interneing,
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