Vicharak

Before we even realised it, classes were running in full swing—day in, day out—pulling us into a cycle where something or the other always kept us occupied. But amidst all the rush, the best part of the day was always the practicals . That was where theories stepped out of textbooks and came alive. Our first year was neatly split into two halves: what we studied in the first semester was taken up by the other section in the second, and vice-versa. We had C Programming, Engineering Drawing, Physics, Basic Electrical Engineering, and the futuristic Communication Lab. Each subject had its own charm—sometimes because of the content, sometimes purely because of the characters who taught them. The First Shock Physics Lab came with its own legend— APC Sir . During our very first experiment, I experienced the first shock of my college life—no, not the electric kind. I had missed the introduction class because I had gone home for the education loan approval. So innocently, ...

  Things were unfolding rapidly for us—it was hard for many to even comprehend what was happening. Rishi and I were planning to apply for an education loan, so we requested the necessary documents from the college. To our surprise, the approval came within a day. To avail the facility, we had to visit our respective hometown's branches of the Banks who will give us the loan. We decided to travel together on the Purushottam Express, Rishi got down at Chandrapura Station and i deboarded the train at Gomoh Junction . After completing all the formalities in few day's, we returned to campus—only to be greeted with shocking news. Two nights earlier, the seniors had rounded up all the first-year students and taken them to the terrace. One of our batchmates had half his moustache shaved off by a third-year student, a few others were made to dance for half an hour, and hostelites were terrorized in every possible way. Rishi and I felt lucky to have escaped the episode, but...

Our little group decided that before lectures, schedules, and assignments swallowed us whole, we needed to see the place that would shape our next four years. So we began our journey right from the main gate , letting the early excitement guide our steps. The moment you walk in, the campus opens like a scene from a film. A massive pyramidal structure rises ahead — mysterious, almost futuristic. Tales floated around that a giant globe would one day be suspended in its centre, as if the whole world would hang gently within that pyramid’s steel ribs. Whether true or not, the rumour gave the place an aura of ambition. To the left , the Diploma building stood calm and academic. To the right , the Hotel Management block carried its own charm with neatly curated ornamental plants and tiny reflective ponds that shimmered under the sun, like mirrors placed there to make you pause and admire. A little ahead, the landscape opened into a huge field — half playground, half construction site...

The First Class of Engineering After the orientation, we finally received our class schedule. In those days, the notice board was our “official WhatsApp” — the one place that told you everything you needed to know. My lectures were scheduled in the RD Block , right beside the training ship TS Ranjita . Our classroom — RD 103 — was allotted to a combined batch of about 110 students from Chemical Engineering and Civil Engineering . The first-year course was common for all branches, so everyone was new to everyone. I found a spot around the fifth or sixth bench — the perfect place for the “general crowd” — visible enough to not seem aloof, but hidden enough to stay unnoticed. Our first lecture was Mathematics , and the professor was Indira Ma’am . As soon as she entered, the entire class stood up in unison, greeting her like we used to do back in school. She smiled, welcomed us warmly, and began explaining the importance of mathematics in engineering. The room was fil...

  The Wait Before the Beginning After returning from Jamshedpur , I began preparing for the Jharkhand Combined Entrance Exam , which was scheduled for May 19, 2010 . Once the exam was over, the long wait for results began — the kind of waiting that stretches time, where hope and anxiety quietly trade places every few hours. During those days, Shyamal Da’s café in Shyamnagar became my daily refuge. It was a newly opened café-cum-photo studio, the kind of small-town establishment that smelled of freshly brewed tea, printer ink, and quiet ambition. Shyamal Da ran it with discipline — strict about who could open what on the computer, yet kind to every anxious student who came to check their fate. The café wasn’t just a shop; it was a shared waiting room for dreams. When results began to roll out, one after another, I found my name among the successful candidates of four different entrance exams . My best performance came in the Odisha Joint Entrance Exam (OJEE) — I had secured a...

The First Step — 16th August 2010 “Good morning,” I whispered to myself as I opened my eyes at 5 a.m. on the 16th of August, 2010 . The room was quiet, the dawn faintly brushing its pale light across the window. It wasn’t just another morning — it was the morning that would mark the beginning of a new chapter in my life. Today, I was to begin my engineering journey — a path that, in my heart, I believed would change everything. Life until then hadn’t been easy for me or my siblings. We were learning to swim through the tides of uncertainty, but somewhere deep inside, I had silently taken on the responsibility of making things right. That quiet sense of duty — the classic lower-middle-class resolve — was the fire that kept me moving. I got up, washed away the remnants of sleep, and by 6:15 a.m. , I was ready to leave the dormitory. The air outside carried the freshness of early morning mixed with the distant hum of waking city life. A short walk ahead stood Bhubanesh...

It was 15th August 2010 — Independence Day — and in a way, it was the beginning of my own independence too. After countless thoughts, long discussions with teachers, friends, and family, and hours of research, I finally decided to pursue B.Tech in Chemical Engineering at C.V. Raman College of Engineering . For the documentation verification, my father and I travelled to VSSUT, Sambalpur . A few days later, we headed to the college for admission formalities. The moment had finally come — the time to leave home and step into a new world, a new life, where every step I took would be mine to own. The Journey Begins I was to travel from Dhanbad to Bhubaneswar via Howrah . Around 5:40 AM , I boarded the Coalfield Express . My father came to see me off at Dhanbad station. His eyes were calm but heavy — a mix of pride, worry, and emotion. I waved goodbye as the train slowly pulled away, carrying me towards an unknown future filled with excitement, fear, and dreams. The train reached ...

It was May 3rd, 2010 — the day Harsh, Vikash, and I were returning from Jamshedpur, famously known as Tatanagar. I had been living there for the past eight months, preparing for my engineering entrance exams. My final test, for KIIT, had been held on May 2nd. Vikash had come from Dhanbad to appear for the same exam, while Harsh came to celebrate my birthday on May 1st. Vikash was staying at his uncle’s house in Mango (not the fruit, but a locality in Jamshedpur), while Harsh and I were in my PG at Kadma Water Tank, near the police station. We planned to return home by Swarnarekha Express, the only direct train running between Jamshedpur and Dhanbad. We were short of money, so I sold my tiffin box to a boy at the PG for ₹90 — enough for some snacks during the journey. Around 11 a.m., we left the PG, walked to the main road, and caught an auto to Tatanagar Railway Station — the cleanest station I had seen till that day. Vikash arrived soon after. We bought our second-class sitting t...

In the heart of the forest, by a railway line, Near the mines of coal so dark, yet fine, Stood a castle of brick and mortar white — My home, my haven, my soul’s delight. A mango tree shaded the courtyard ground, Night jasmine spread its scent all around. Animals wandered, birds took flight, Days were golden, and stars shone bright. Joyful mornings, skies so clear, Soulful evenings drawing near. Scorching summers, thunderous rain, Chilly winters, and spring again. Something in that fragrant air, Healed my heart and eased each care. Neither village nor town defined, That place was one of its kind. Its own dawn, its own twilight hue, A world I knew, so pure, so true. River, pond, and well were mine, We’d play, we’d pour, we’d rise, we’d shine. Each festival brought colors divine — Holi, Diwali, Chhath, Durga’s time. Grandparents weren’t stories told, They were the stories — wise and old. Their presence calm, their touch so kind, Their love still lingers in my mind. “Cricket!”, “I Spy!”, “...

 It was an ordinary evening in mid-March, the kind that feels full of possibilities. Our school exams were finally over, and freedom was in the air. We were restless — hungry for a little adventure. That’s when I suggested, “Let’s go to Boka Pahadi !” (The name roughly translates to Moron Hill , though we never really cared about what it meant.) So off we went — Harsh, Nitesh, Rohit, Ravi, and me — toward the rocky outskirts of Jharia. Boka Pahadi was a local favorite, a small hill that served as a picnic spot for families, and an open playground for brave kids like us. When we reached the top, the world below seemed calm, almost sleepy. The coal fields stretched far and wide, and the evening wind brushed against our faces as we explored the slopes, tossing pebbles and dreaming up silly games. Then someone — I don’t remember who — said, “Let’s race downhill and see who reaches first!” It sounded like the perfect idea at the time. Rohit went first. He was cautious, moving sl...