Long Live Sree Kerala Varma College (SKVC)!

It is rather coincident that this post too is about my alma matter; not JNU this time. It is about Sree Kerala Varma College, Trichur where I spent 7 years before landing in JNU. Well. Unlike JNU, from where I obtained just an MPhil and a PhD (incomplete), I did take my Pre-Degree, BA and MA from the campus in Trichur!

We recently had the Kerala Varma College alumni get together; for the first time in the last 22 years. It was exciting!! The excitement began the moment Jayakrishnan (Pattande) called me up, after a gap of 22 years, to inform me about the get together. Apart from the elaborate travel plans (since I had to travel from Chennai to Trichur), I made several phone calls to connect with old comrades even before the D day. I was, somewhat, nervous for no reason.

I had left the campus in 1986; but then, I had made it a habit to visit the campus at least once in a year; every time I visited home, a few hours at the college was a routine. I met my teachers. In a sense, I have observed them over the years; those who were young men and women when I was a student had begun to gray and some are now retired from work. And during my brief visits, the all shared their own perception of the changes in the campus. Invariably, RG sir or KuttiKrishnan sir got me Sharbath and vadas from the shop located, round the corner outside the college gate. Sometimes Krishna and Chinku too joined me in this ``pilgrimage’’. Well. I also happened to teach in the same college for a few months; I had filled up a leave vacancy. The fact is that at no point of time did I feel like an alien in the campus.

This time it was different. I was so much excited about meeting my old comrades; it was with them that I inculcated the concept of ‘study and struggle’ in my life. Along with the old royal buildings, suppotta trees and Ooty, the campus was and is very much a part of my life. Kerala Varma’s Ooty deserves a special mention; this is the most beautiful part of our campus; a large tract of thickly vegetated land with water bodies. In fact, one of the ponds marks the boundary between Ooty and the ladies hostel. Beyond this are the paddy fields; in the summer months, I used to walk through the fields to the college from home. Ooty was also the most romantic and serene place in the campus. For the same reason, the entry to Ooty was eternally banned to the students by the not -- so -romantic administration.

Well. Couples managed to break the rules to attain the solace of Ooty; to be reprimanded later.

This was the campus I entered there for my pre-University course when I was still in my teens. I must thank my father for that; he defied disapproval from many of my relatives; Kerala Varma College, after all, was co-educational and hence! There were other colleges in town known for their disciplinarian methods and meant only for girls. And it was in Sree Kerala Varma College that I joined the SFI. And it was in this very campus that I received my first love letter; that one was mixed with poetry and prose. I said no to him. I was, at that time, a sincere comrade and thought that love affairs were part of the bourgeois culture.

In this very campus, we had long study classes, discussion and poetry workshops. Those were times when every second person wrote poems or stories; I too was one among them. RG sir’s classes were wonderful as he connected the Malayalam poetry with those from Latin America; and we learnt to love Pablo Neruda –
“And it was at that age...
Poetry arrived in search of me.
I don't know, I don't know where it came from,
from winter or a river.
I don't know how or when,
no, they were not voices,
they were not words, nor silence,
but from a street I was summoned,
from the branches of night,
abruptly from the others,
among violent fires
or returning alone,
there I was without a face”

We had long sessions at the canteen with vadas and chai. Those days money was scarce; hence less number of sponsors for tea and snacks. Many a time our teachers fished us out of the debt trap!. And the SFI taught us to be political, lead a simple and socially committed life; urged us to decide “our politics because politics decided our future”. We all happily led a Spartan life, much to the ire of our parents and relatives. We, girls refused to wear gold; not even ear rings; the three Geethas, Jaya, Arya, Beena and many more.

There were demonstrations and processions; we sang revolutionary songs – “it is the time for struggle comrades”….Martyrs are the greatest and they show us the right path”….

We organized the best cultural events; from folk arts to showing of great films like Satyajit Ray’s pather panchali and made hand bills and posters in the evening.

Those days had its share of turmoil also. I lost my younger brother for ever; to the intolerant and brutal politics of the ABVP-RSS. He had just joined the college then. We were very close as siblings as well as comrades. The same ideology held us together. We just began to understand each other in a different light as members of the same organization. Then not even six months together in the campus; they killed him for nothing. There was no history of fight with them, no record of having provoked them. Nothing. Just like that they had decided to finish off somebody that particular night and this boy was an easy prey. He had his last supper at home and had a good laugh over something and left to watch the local festival; never to comeback. They were waiting in the dark. Just three deep stabs. A 17 year old life and his dreams ended there.

It took long; several months for me to come to terms with his death. A deep sorrow settled in the place of tears. My comrades were there to support me throughout the traumatic period.

And I met them after 22 years, around 200 of them. Some of them were very close to me; others were just known to me. Now we live in different parts of the country; some even abroad. Matured with gray hairs and several kilos heavier than they were! I must admit that I could not recognize some of them. I too realized that some people will never grow up in their life; even if they appear older.

But then, many others have grown older and wiser too. Soopan (Suresh) is now a bulky guy; I remember him as a lean and thin boy. And he is also wiser now. Prabha (our kalari payattu hero and hence called Chekavar by us) looked the same. He was a composed person then and continues to be one now too. Beena looked sadder and I thought of those vibrant days of struggle where Beena played a major role.

Politically, most of us are still left leaning; but some of us are not with any particular party. Comrades like Radhakrishnan (now the Speaker of the Kerala Assembly) and U.P.Joseph are still with the CPI(M). There are some others like them too.

But we felt the warmth of the being together and sharing a comradeship of the 1980’s. And it was also fun to have a lone KSU (I) guy at the get together. He jelled well with us.

Of course, SKVC looks better! Lot more trees now and hence greener. The old supotta trees defy their age and live there for ever, the buildings have been painted many times and there is a new auditorium. The old one, facing the beautiful Ooty is still there!

Thank you His Highness Sree Kerala Varma! Long live Kerala Varma College!!