One sign of getting old(er) is to often visualize images of
childhood and youth, and to revisit them. I did some of that today.
I grew up on the campus of the Aligarh Muslim University
(AMU) and took a circuitous walk today absorbing the sites of my youth. Much
has changed, but much remains the same as well.
My walk started from the Old Physics Building, a grand red
stone building, which besides being home to the Physics Department in
yesteryears, also gave birth to the Jawaharlal Nehru Medical College and
sustained it for many years in the 1960s. It now houses the Biochemistry
Department. This has a special place in my life as my father started this
department and chaired it for many years.
Walking through the Science Faculty and in front of the
Engineering College, I arrived at the Arts Faculty, with Theology Department on
one side and the General Education Centre across the street. Besides my core
(and serious) classes in the Science Faculty, this part of campus provided comic
relief in the form of compulsory courses.
Sunni Theology from our time at AMU is synonymous with Iqbal
(Barula) Bhai. I remember the time he admonished a fellow student (now himself
a Professor at AMU) for questioning why the ‘qurbani ka bakra’ should have
certain attributes. Iqbal Bhai was a loveable character despite his insistence
that we buy his book from the Educational Book Depot (in Shamshad Market)
before he would give the sessional marks. It was widely believed that Iqbal
Bhai did not know either English or Hindi, so it was safe to answer the Sunni
Theology paper in those languages. Those who answered it in Urdu were usually
in trouble; others got passing marks. May he rest in peace.
My memories of Arts Faculty go back to friends who were studying
History, but also to two widely divergent experiences. I registered for a
French language class, but left it rather quickly because the teacher could
exercise little control over his spit, which those in the front had to bear. Moving
to the rear was not an option since the professor also liked to walk around the
class. The Advanced English course, however, was a joy. We read George Orwell’s
‘Animal Farm’ and Henrik Ibsen’s ‘A Doll’s House’ and the professors who taught
these were outstanding. We got engaging commentaries on communism gone awry and
gender equality from a leftist and a feminist, respectively.
The General Education Centre was the hub of cultural
activity with many a memorable play and evenings of music and ghazals in the
Kennedy Hall Auditorium. The play Agra Bazaar, the Mock Convocations and late
Maqbool Mahmood are still etched in memory. The GEC was also the site for our
compulsory general awareness course ‘Science and Society’ taught by Surti
Saheb. A course that you only had to pass, and whose class met at 3 pm in the
summer of Aligarh, was bound to attract all sorts of mischief. But Surti Saheb
went on undeterred and managed to give us a decent overview of the subject.
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| Maulana Azad Library |
Time to move on. My walk took me to Maulana Azad Library. It
looks as lovely as ever, with an extensive green lawn in front and the imposing
Moorish arch adorning its main gateway. It was encouraging to see many students
studying on the sunny lawns and hectic activity in and out of the Library. So,
I walk through the Library Complex towards the sports fields. Soon, my optimism
turns into disbelief.
The football ground now has a cricket pitch in the middle. Why?
There were two dogs enjoying an afternoon snooze and just two boys dribbling
with a football. There was some activity on the basketball floor, just a few
boys shooting the hoops. The tennis courts and hockey ground were major
disappointments. In the mid-1970s when I played on the AMU tennis team, four
courts were set up every day, with at least 15-20 students playing there on a
given day. Today, there was just one court and no one was playing on it. The
attendant said the University Team had just left to play the Inter-Varsity
tournament. But where were the others? The hockey ground of my memory was
always full, with two full teams playing a match every day and many boys waiting
on the stairs. Today there were just two boys dribbling and one shooting at the
goal post. Will AMU hockey ever produce another Zafar Iqbal (my friend and
contemporary at AMU)?
Realizing that this is the age of cricket and AMU has just
won the North Zone Inter-Varsity Cricket, I started walking towards the
Willingdon Pavilion, and took the path through Sir Syed Hall. This place was
alive. The AMU Students Union elections have just been announced and every
major candidate has a camp in SS Hall. There were groups sitting around in the
sun discussing strategy over endless cups of tea. I enter through Bab-e-Ishaq
and walk through Strachey Hall towards Bab-e-Rahmat. This part of campus has no
equal in terms of its architectural grandeur. But the drying laundry in front
of Asman Manzil and Mushtaq Manzil does spoil the scenery. The University
Mosque stands out like a pure jewel.
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| University Mosque |
I arrive at the cricket ground to find seven boys at the
nets. Just the other day there was a programme on NDTV about the Toyota
University Cricket Championship in which 16 university teams are being invited
to participate in a T-20 format. AMU is one of the teams. But why are those players
not on the nets? The weather was perfect.
My disappointment is growing. So I take the road in front of
Victoria Gate to walk towards University Road. The red stone architecture is
lovely and well preserved and lifts the mood. As I approach University Road,
there is Faiz Gate, popularly called Bab-e-Himaqat, either for its ceremonial
role in welcoming dignitaries or the story that an elephant towed it from a
‘riyasat’ around Agra to Aligarh. Opposite the Faiz Gate is the newly made
University Circle, which today sported the banner of one of the election candidates.
Such a pity!!
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| Bab-e-Himaqat |
I turn left to find a group of students demonstrating in
front of the administration building, and overheard someone saying – “phir yeh
drama shuru hua”. I move on towards Bab-e-Syed, the youngest of AMU gates that
looks quite nice. I hope it does not get plastered with election posters as in
yesteryears.
Next to Bab-e-Syed is 3 University Road. This is the house
where I was born and spent my childhood, living there till 1968. Naturally, I
turned into it. The beautiful house with 10 rooms, a large outer verandah, a
portico and a large heart-shaped lawn, has changed over the years into a mess
that now houses the AMU Admission Office. When the Administrative Complex was
built where the AMU Nursery used to be, it took away some space from 3
University Road as well - the one that occupied the left driveway populated by
palm trees and bougainvillea. My neem tree is still there but the ‘morpankhi’
in my favourite lawn was no longer there. What stared back at me was something
I did not recognize. How can I expect it to recognize me?
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| 3, University Road |
I turn towards Muzammil Manzil and quietly melt away in the
cacophony of Dodhpur.
All major roads on AMU campus are dug up right now, but this
will hopefully lead to a better future. But many more students who aimlessly
ride motorcycles on university roads compared to those present on sports fields,
is something to be worried about. This is not a good sign for the future.
AMU has some of the best sports facilities of any Indian
university. On this winter afternoon every single sports ground was ready to
welcome users. Sadly, the users were missing. Can we not make it compulsory for
every first year student to participate in a sport? The lessons of discipline,
rigor, competition, defeat and triumph learnt on a sports field will help our
next generation better face the challenges of life.
The challenge however is to get them there.
