Tamil Nadu Agricultural – There are certain firsts in life that time can never dull. The first day at school, the day we step into college, or the first time we leave home stays with us, fresh and unblurred, no matter how many years go by.
Every generation carries its own version of that unforgettable beginning. Mine was a December morning in 1983, when a young student arrived in Coimbatore to begin a new chapter at the Tamil Nadu Agricultural University.
The overnight bus ride from Nagercoil had been long and cold, and as the bus stopped by the Coimbatore railway station in the chilly, early morning, so did the quiet rhythm of childhood. In front of the railway station stood a yellow bus with a green band, proudly bearing the university’s name. A few seniors were waiting nearby, scanning faces for newcomers.
Their easy smiles and cheerful greetings cut through the nervousness of the moment. One of them lifted a bag onto his shoulder and said, “Welcome, friend.
” That simple kindness mattered more than they could have known. It turned an anxious boy into a confident fresher, at least for that day. The men’s hostel appeared soon after, a sturdy red brick building framed by trees.
It looked as though it had seen countless batches come and go, its walls having heard laughter, quarrels and late-night dreams of young people who believed the world awaited them. Inside, the rooms were plain and lived-in, with creaking steel cots and corners already occupied by resident lizards.
But to the newcomers, those small spaces held all the promise of adulthood. The first meal at the dining hall, a plate of venpongal, had the flavour of both novelty and comfort. Around the long tables, students from across the state compared hometowns and dialects, laughing at each other’s accents.
Strangers became companions over second helpings of sambar and coconut chutney. Later that afternoon came the orientation at the College of Agricultural Engineering, marked by a sculpture of a farmer on a tractor and a hand holding a sheaf of paddy.
The dean spoke about discipline, innovation, and service to society. The words may have floated over many of our heads then, but they settled quietly somewhere within. As dusk fell, the first wave of homesickness arrived.
The fields behind the hostel glowed gold in the fading light, and the breeze carried the scent of earth. Yet something felt missing, the sounds of home, a mother’s voice, the comfort of the familiar.
Many of us must have stood by our windows that night, not knowing that loneliness is often the first lesson of independence. Years later, when we look back, that first day still feels close enough to touch.
The faces, the laughter and the awkward silences remain etched in memory. Each of us carries that one day when life truly began to open up, when excitement and fear stood side by side.
We may have travelled far since then, but somewhere deep inside, the person who took that first uncertain step is still walking beside us. jclementselvaraj@gmail. com.