|that neglected mythical canteen, |
now a board for displaying posters
everybody agreed that the food in the canteen was disgusting and yet everybody ate there out of some strange love for the place.
|inside of the canteen, |
once a hot spot now a mere shadow of its (in)glorious past.
it was the canteen which kept alive the students who rebelled against the mess. it was here where we all had tea when nothing seemed to work. it was here that important ideas flew into our head while eating alone.
all that is gone now. some chairs and tables remain and that derelict chai shop laughs at our loneliness.
this morning around 6 o clock i took pictures of the canteen. i felt like a character out of that Walter De La Mare poem (the listeners) i had read in class ten.
the traveller came, smote on the door thrice. no answer came. undaunted the traveller left a message to the emptiness inside:
|'Tell them I came, and no one answered,|
|That I kept my word,' he said.|
emotions apart, the canteen must open for better or for worse. at least the chai shop must be there in place. i heard the canteen people left because the students misbehaved with them. if it's true then it's a grave thing to have happened.
i can only suggest the university students to be patient and to be very careful while dealing with people. don't anger them man. it's like the old saying: if you spit at the sky it falls on you.
|that chai shop now under the archaeological department of EFLU|