The quaint thing that I find about Joka, however, is that, 15 plus years on, many things still look the same, feel the same, and seem the same. Which maybe good or bad, I guess, depending on what sort of eyeballs you have screwed on.  Mostly good, for the set I have on right now.

Take the lakes – still serene as ever, unbridled, unruly vegetation all around, totally un-manicured, some of them over run by water hyacinths as always, and some lined by the oh-so–lovely pink lotuses in full bloom in the early mornings, and yes, the occasional snake slithering in and out of the shrubs by their banks, those crane like birds (never figured what they are called) which dive in and out, literally fishing for a meal, the loud splash you hear but can never seem to figure what, making you wonder if it was a flying fish, or a kingfisher or  rat snake. And the constant melodies of all kinds of birds that floats to your ears, even if you don’t pause during your walk to listen. And of course, you still have to contend with the carpet bombings by the crow at nightfall. All adding to maintain the ever pristine, pastoral feel of the campus.

Or,  take the “Howrah Bridge” – the girders still painted blue (I wouldn’t have it any other way) , still sporting those perennially shaky wooden floor boards (I seriously think Maintenance manages it by design!), and I understand, still the rendezvous for the more adventurous romantic souls and mosquito-resistant bodies.

Yesteryear - IIM Calcutta,1977

Or, the good ol’ Jetty, which if could be googled through, would likely reveal an unending repertoire of spirited (pun intended) stories, outpourings and heartbreak tales, gathered in the wee hours of the morning. The Coffee Corner (Machaan) is still around to save you from hunger pangs, and so is the enterprising Mohan-da. Baro-C and JBS still belt out music, but along the way, the  investment bankers in the making decided to merge it, and I wonder how many inmates can relate the origin of these names to the precious bus routes that used to be our lifeline to the city.

So what’s new? A fair lot of things have sprung up, a bit here and a bit there, but all in a way as if they didn’t want to disturb what was already around, almost as if they didn’t want you to feel the change. I stroll a little beyond Tagore Hall, still called White House, (though it is now painted a dirty yellow) which used to be literally the end of the road when I lived here before; but now it is just that the boundary seems to have shifted a mite beyond and another hostel, rather unimaginatively called the New Hostel has come up. Somewhere along that stretch, there is now, tucked away, a gym and a swimming pool. I see a fancy auditorium, towering in the backdrop and a new teaching block. The old Acad block – same old, same old, except that the class rooms now thankfully have air-conditioners. The library is the same, except that, like the rest of the campus the place is now all “wired”.

And yes, the legendary Tyre is kinda missing from open view, from its venerable perch near the jetty. But thankfully, I am assured that it is just hidden some place, only to surface at the time of the Annual Tyre Raid, which happens with the same gusto and bravado as used to years earlier, except that now there is one more hostel as a claimant.  Tennis ball cricket still draws billings – somewhere along the way it seems to have got rechristened from Trout & Ries to the IIMC Premier League (why am I not surprised?). World War still strikes without fail, with some minor variations, as can be expected and allowed, I guess, in 20 odd years. XL-IIMC meets have become unbelievably raucous. And get ready to get ‘Dunked’, again with some variation at play. Amazingly, the hoary tradition of the ‘Lord’ lives on, the mantle passing on from batch to batch. Long live the Lord! The ‘Phantom’ seems to have unfortunately given up his immortality though! And it is good to hear that after all these years, it is still “Put Lake”, or ‘Put Jetty‘ or ‘Put NC’ – for any unsuspecting, uninitiated folks reading this, you can unravel this seemingly strange tongue when (if) you get over here.

The interpersonal dynamics seem a little different, as it is bound to be, with 400-odd junta now in every PGP batch instead of 150-200, and with technology ruling lives. The food in the messes, I am delighted to add, has improved, but of course still a far, far cry from mom’s kitchen.

Could a few things have been done to make us enjoy all this even better, without spoiling the natural surrounds?  Surely, yes. But yet, for all its faults I may be able to pick, I wouldn’t give this up for any other place more manicured, aseptic or dressed up. There’s something about Joka, I’ll say. You will probably say that I am biased. Sure, I am, but I couldn’t care less. It’s wonderful to come back to a place, “my” place, after such a long while, and feel totally at home, and not a stranger. It’s comforting to know that the bricks you leaned against are still there for you, in all its solidity, and the stone bench by the corner of the lake still there for you, to take in nature in solitude or maybe flip flat pebbles across the lake. Yes, It maybe a little spooky, as a friend put it, to come back (bees saal baad, so to say) and check into the same hostel and almost the same room, even if for a few days! Deja Vu, you can say that again!

And, something tells me that even those who may have had the chance to look back at this venerable Institute with pride and love, fifty golden years after they saw it first, wouldn’t differ very much from me. Doesn’t matter that fifty years is indeed a long, long time.  Oh! I probably missed saying this earlier- I am back here now to do my fellow programme and enjoying it. And if you haven’t ever been here, or if you haven’t been back here for a long time, I hope you start making your plans.

-Venkataraman S.

Batch of 1992,

FPM, IIM Calcutta

“Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life”

To unwind from their academic rigor, generations of IIMCians have evolved an institution within the campus. The name might not be very explanatory but JBS-BaroC is the official band of IIMC. JBS-BaroC nights- with the music, the atmosphere coupled with the “refreshments”- act as escape vents out of the daily chores of IIMC, making them one of the cornerstones of IIMC culture.

JBS stands for “Joka Bus Stand” and BaroC stands for “12 C” which is the number of the bus connecting the campus to the world outside, a metaphor for freedom and fun, much like the band itself. The band does not limit itself to a speicifc genre and plays music ranging from Kishore Kumar’s “Humein tumse Pyaar Kitna” to RATM’s “Killing in the name of”. Their performances are eagerly looked forward to as a time to let your hair down and relax. Their biggest contribution to the institute so far has however been the composition of “Early Days”, a song which describes the experience of first two months on campus in poetic detail. No performance of the band is complete without the rendition of this song by the crowd.

In order to match the high level of expectations by the students, the band members give up practically everything else in the college. The days, more appropriately nights, leading up to the show are spent in the music room practicing hard. On the D-day though, the enthu shown by the audience brings out the best in every performer.

Over the years JBS-BaroC has become synonymous with good times in IIMC. It is something the alumni relate to years after passing out. It has also proven to be one of the greatest ice breakers in interviews conducted by alumni!!

For JokaTimes

Sreekanth Reddy