The ride from the station to Abdullah hall through Marris road is full of bumps and potholes large enough to be called black holes. Grand entrance with dull and pale blue rusted gate needs a quicks painting session. When the Bab E Sayyed had been given due importance, this "Bab E Husn" should at least not be left so neglected. The breeze was cool as I waded through the green avenue towards the rooms and the hostel, but the fire of seniority was lashing hard on the juniors. I knew that soon after this, I will the "murgi" under the banner of "Intro". Ladies old enough to be my dadi will force me to call Aapa, and why not, they have been sitting on the throne of seniority for the past two decades, moving up each class in a minimum of four years or so. The best thing they know is to take intro. I was just waiting to face music. Aaagey aagey dekhiye hota hai kyaa.....

The soothing morning breeze of August, when I first stepped down the train to Aligarh was to start a new story altogether. I could see Abbajaan hold the smile on his face as if he himself returned back to study in Aligarh Muslim University. Without a clue he rushed to the Subedar chai wala to have his morning tea as he used to do when he was a student of this great university. At this point of time I could not sense much difference from my small home town and the mighty AMU. With a small refreshment we headed towards the university for the fulfilment of the formalities of my admission process.
My curious eyes paid attention to every little detail of this new place, which will be my abode for a few years from now. I couldn't help examinig even the rickshaw on which I and Abba sat down. The rickshaw in Aligarh are quite different, small seats, slanting in front, difficult to balance. I saw Abba siting quite comfortably, well there had to be a difference in a senior Alig and a novice. After a myriad of forms and umpteen photo pasting sessions, using glues enough to paste the moon on earth, we had a sigh of relief.