The First class of engineering

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 filled with pin-drop silence — the kind that only happens before friendships begin. Nobody knew each other yet; there were no whispers, no giggles, no back-bench banter. Just a room full of eager yet nervous faces, listening, observing, waiting for things to unfold.

When the class ended, the hostelites — including me — headed for breakfast. The central canteen was about a 200-250 meter walk from RD Block. As we walked, a few second- and third-year students stood by, scanning the new faces like predators marking their prey. We quickened our steps and climbed the stairs to safety.

After breakfast, the next lecture began, followed by lab sessions. Our class was divided into two groups — each heading to different departments. The day went smoothly. Teachers introduced themselves and asked for our introductions. Some students barely managed to say their names, while a few spoke with such confidence and fluency that the whole class listened in admiration.

That was the first time I realized — even though we were all in the same class — our ability to communicate and articulate was vastly different. I was just “okay,” but in my mind, I had already marked my first goal: I needed to improve the way I expressed myself.

After classes ended, hostelites went for lunch while day scholars rushed to catch their buses. In the canteen, I met Rishi and Abhishek, and after lunch, we returned to our room. Just then, a tall, dark boy wearing cargo pants and a t-shirt walked in, carrying a bucket.

He introduced himself — Pankaj, from Electrical Engineering.

Without wasting a second, I said, “Where are you from, brother?”

“Jamshedpur,” he replied.

My eyes lit up. “I’m from Dhanbad,” I said quickly, “and these two are from Bokaro. Stay here with us — it’ll be great.” I sounded like a salesman pitching an offer, but it worked. He smiled and said, “Okay then, I’ll stay here.”

And just like that, our room was full — and our little circle had formed. We were all from Jharkhand, and that was enough reason to feel at home.

That evening, another boy dropped by — Purushottam (whom we later called Dealing). He stayed in Room 117 and had met Rishi earlier. A mechanical engineering student from Jehanabad, he carried with him the earthy charm and warmth of his hometown — visible in both his tone and personality.

He suggested, “Let’s go to the back gate to get SIM cards.” Rishi and I agreed immediately, while Abhishek and Pankaj decided to stay back.

Those days, the back gate near the student counter was the most happening place on campus. To reach there, we had to cross the entire engineering complex — where “senior crocodiles” always lurked, waiting to “interact” (or rag) a few juniors.

We each bought a SIM — I went for RIM CDMA, while Rishi and Purushottam chose Reliance Smart (GSM). After a cup of tea, we sat by the central lawn, talking about forming a group that would resist ragging and soon become one of the most recognized circles on campus.

Our ambitious planning was suddenly interrupted when Jallel Sir, one of the admin staff, appeared and warned, “Go back to your hostel before some seniors catch you. Don’t loiter around!”

We didn’t think twice — we hurried back. On the way, we saw a boy confidently giving his introduction to a senior. In his capri pants, smiling as he spoke — that was Apurv — who would soon become an integral part of our group.

When we reached our room, we shared the news about ragging with the others. Pankaj, who had traveled by train for the first time in his life, was shocked. “They actually do this?” he asked. Abhishek looked tense — he had been Rishi’s senior in school, but now they were classmates again.

By 8 PM, our small group gathered for dinner in the canteen. A few more introductions and handshakes followed. Back in our room, laughter and light chatter filled the air. It had been a wholesome start to our first semester — new faces, new bonds, and a sense of adventure in the air.

As I lay on my bed that night, my thoughts drifted to the new SIM card that would activate in the next 24 hours. With that small anticipation and a tired smile, I slowly drifted into dreamland, ready for whatever college life had in store next.