The campus warrior and the silent hurricane -By Abhishek Anand from IIM Nagpur

The graduation days shall always be remembered for the eternal bonds formed on grounds of honesty and innocence. All young and timid faces which appear like fresh flower buds gradually bloom into the flowers having unique fragrances. For many, this is the first time they leave their comfort zones and set goals for themselves. It is the time when they make decisions independently for the first time and stick to them to get the best out of it. Amidst all the college chaos and turbulence, there was someone as firm as the oak tree and as silent as the falling leaf. My first interaction with Suman Sarmah, the campus warrior, happened in the college library.

The first encounter

I had been called by the supervisor for collecting my library card. Everyone had collected their cards a week back and I along with a few more guys were the only ones who were due. So, we were made to write an apology letter for accessing library facilities. While I was looking for someone who could give me a blank paper, my eyes rested on a skinny person, patiently sitting on a withered wooden chair. His giant, flat forehead with dark groovy lines crossing each other made him look like an expert pundit, having a bucket full of knowledge. I went up to him and said, “Hi I am Abhishek, a first-year Mechanical Engineering student, I need a blank paper for writing an apology letter".

While giving me the paper, he commented sarcastically that the library card was of no use now, as their entire stock of course books had already been issued. He then tore another plain paper and asked me to write another application, requesting to get the stock of books replenished. I interacted with him for some time and realized that he was my classmate. He had been invisible under the canvass of modesty. I thanked him for his benevolence and said that I will see him later.

Growing together with the campus warrior

The first year comprised mixed emotions of fear, loneliness, exuberance and friendliness. New faces were encountered every day, some of which were remembered and some were forgotten. Suman was someone who was remembered by most of the guys. It was not because of his sober looks but because of his witty comments.

As the days, passed we became very good friends. He used to help me imbibe class lectures and I used to teach him to play table tennis. He used to actively participate in technical events where a flair of mechanical engineering was required or the quizzes and debates which demanded good communication skills. I started visiting his room regularly and it was because of him that I socialized with people. I also met some creative minds in his room.  They taught me the basics of acoustic guitar and also accompanied me in chess. Amidst lectures, exams, sessions, and activities, a year had passed without even realizing that we had become seniors and it was the time to leave our junior hostel.

The Fourth Frolic

In the second year, Suman and I were luckily allotted the same hostel but our blocks were different. We were strictly told to follow mess and hostel. Where ragging brought us closer to seniors, helping us bond well with them, there was this one incident where Suman stood up for my roommate, saving him from humiliation. That day, the respect I had for Suman increased manifolds. The bonding with the seniors was bolstered to an extent that if a senior from other hostel ragged any of us, it would create a rampage. The same traditions were set for juniors living in another hostel also.

We had a total of eight boy’s hostels. Each of the hostels had a long old legacy which had to be carried forward. Every hostel had its rival hostel that used to vigorously compete with each other in various sports and cultural tournaments. The commitment of the students in the tournament was spellbinding, even the support of hostel mates came in masses. Suman was not an outdoor sports person. He still used to come out to encourage the people who represented the ‘Fourth Frolic hostel’ in the sports tournament. The year when Suman, the campus warrior, held the responsibility of managing our hostel team for various sports, Fourth frolic lifted the trophy. He never shied away from doing pity tasks of arranging water and Medicare for the players.

Diwali: The festival of lights and crackers

Diwali was one festival which illuminated the hearts of students coming from diverse backgrounds. Cracker fights generally began at midnight, after the customary ‘Laxmi Puja’.

It was during Diwali celebration in our third year when the customary cracker fight between “Fourth Frolican’s” and Hostel 3 “Ecstasian’s” turned into a burning storm in which a few students from both hostels were injured. I remember Agni, the guy from our hostel, who had blood spurting out of his chest. He still was reluctant to lose.

Suman mostly liked to celebrate Diwali peacefully by involving himself in a limited number of activities such as making the pandals for Prayer, lightings of hostel and sweets distribution. That day our campus warrior came to the terrace for the first time just to see the battleground. He was dazzled to see the continuous bombarding and the glowing sky. Suman saw Agni on the roof, trying to guard himself against the bullet bombs. He held his hand and tried to pull him towards the door to take him for the medication. But the powerful Agni, with one wave of his big shoulder, pushed Suman almost a foot away.

The unexpected

Our stocks of crackers were about to end and it was getting difficult to face the Ecstasian's. Running away from the roof would mean that we were disrespecting the spirit of the Fourth Frolic which no Frolican would do. So, it was a flustering situation for the Frolican’s. I don't know how it happened but it was then when I saw Suman take Agni's wooden guard. He then called out: “Come close Frolican's!”

Soon, a giant wooden shield was formed which was deflecting all the burning bombs thrown by Ecstasian's. It continued for another half an hour after which the sound of explosives lessened and gradually, the noises died. We paused for a minute to see if they were waiting for us to open our shield. We started firing again. That was the moment we knew we had conquered the battleground. As the fight ended, we lifted Suman on our shoulders and yelled slogans for him. The slogan was iterated for many days. The astuteness of Suman was something which would be remembered by every student of Fourth Frolic that year.

We all were left awed that night when we witnessed the 'Ferocious Frolican' emerge out of the 'Silent Suman’ that day.  In the third year of my graduation, Suman bagged the award for "the Frolican of the year" for safeguarding the old legacy of our hostel and spearheading the Frolicans in pursuit of creating a new history. Suman was, in the truest terms, the unexpected campus warrior.

This article was submitted as an entry to Become an Author with Dare2Compete.