Madras Christian College Alumni (Short Story about the college roads)

There are many places in this world. But, my college campus continues to take the 'favorite' status of all the places I've been to.

 From the outside, the entrance is just an old rugged wall.  Light brown shades of wall fail to hide the unsettling gush of road dust that tries to rest on it. To the right of the gate, a black granite square block engraved at the center of the wall reads 'Madras Christian College, Tambaram.' The light grey color text engraved on the granite is a legacy that many alumni take pride in. While, in college, entering the gate would mean another 10 mins walk to the classroom.

The road from the gateway to the main campus block was at least 100 meters long. That would mean another 100 meters of walk to reach class on time. This was tiring, for as a student who had just walked about 300meters from the local sub-train station to the gate, another walk for 100 meters used to be more like last racing leap to make it to class on time. But, little did I know that 3 years of these little racing leaps that were almost taken in a rush every day would form everlasting memories for life. The roads were about 50 meters by width. Either side of the road were soil gutters, and beyond the gutters were vegetation of all shapes and sizes. Walking through the road would mean being shadowed by the warmth of the trees that surrounded the left, right, and to a large extent even above the road. I do not remember seeing the sky! For it was more like walking through a jungle, into the woods. Into a place that represents everything other than the negative, mad rush that the urban society outside the gate represented.

During the rains, the trees, and the soil from beneath the cluttered biomes released a fresh fragrance that not just filled my senses but also my mind. The water that fell through the green cover from above on the roads naturally slid on either side into the gutters. When the rains were heavy, the gutters were more like a mini stream, channeling all the waters, exactly into the nearby human-made catchment.  The roads did not just connect students between blocks of campus. It transcended people back to nature, back to vintage kind of British culture, and ultimately back in time.

Every alumnus meets that I sign up to go now, I step my foot on this long road, not in a rush, but as slow, conscious strides. I look around, the fresh leaves, the brown woods, the broken tar road, and the soiled gutter. It seems like the only that has changed is time and people. For, their warmth, embrace, and gentle kiss by the wind - it all remains.