IIT Diaries — Part I

I was one of three girls in my class at IIT Madras. 

In 1972, engineering was not an option for girls. Girls could pursue other disciplines or stay at home. Fathers did not allow their girls to pursue engineering. 

Not my father. 

He had the vision to help me and my sister pursue the education of our choices. I had to stay in a hostel, away from home, for the first time. Also, I was six months short of turning sweet sixteen. These reasons did not matter to my father. He supported my decision to study engineering at one of the world’s premier institutions.

(The first photo was taken right before I joined IIT. The second picture is me right after my initiation on 25th November at the Ashram)

My mother, understandably, was worried about her baby girl. She, nevertheless, supported my decision. 

All credit to my parents for encouraging me to study at IIT Madras and supporting me all the way. 

I am penning down snippets from my IIT days in this multi-part series. I’d love it if you’d take a trip down my memory lane with me.

My Home Was Like an Ashram

I grew up in a home which has never seen a fight.

It was similar to an ashram. There was compassion, kindness and discipline. We looked out for one another, we looked after one another. I never encountered anger or abuse till later in my life. 

My time at IIT was also peaceful, just like my home. I had my fair share of hurdles with my studies, especially since my previous schooling was in a  matriculation syllabus in Madurai. 

However, when I look back at my IIT Madras days, I have only fond memories. 

My Father Had Trained Me Well

IIT Madras campus is literally a forest of approximately 600 acres.

It is huge. Deer, monkeys and snakes freely roam about campus. It is not unusual to see a deer when walking from one department to another. It is natural for a 16-year-old girl to be scared in this jungle setting.

I was not afraid. 

Even when I almost stepped on a snake. 

My father had prepared me well. 

Growing up, we stayed in various government quarters. In the middle of the night, my father would send me on errands to another street to deliver documents to a colleague. It would be pitch dark. 

But I would walk alone (or with my elder sister), deliver the document, and walk back home. I was all of six years old.

Walking alone in the IIT campus from the electronics department after finishing up lab work at night, was, therefore, not a new experience. Furthermore, there were watchmen everywhere – in the departments, hostels and libraries, both day and night.

IIT Madras is as safe as it can get.

My First Day at IIT Madras

My father accompanied me on my first day.

To pay the fees. To bid goodbye to his youngest daughter. As he turned back to leave, as a proud parent, did he suppress a tear or two? Not to my knowledge. 

As the first order of business, I had to choose my room in the Sarayu hostel, the only hostel for girls at the time. I chose a room on the second floor. 

EEEEEEEEK.

There was a lizard jammed in the door. I promptly changed my room to the first floor. 

Little did I know that Sarayu hostel would be the home of sisterhood and nostalgic memories. Today, Sarayu hostel members have formed a WhatsApp group, and we keep in close touch. 

Women Never Forget Chivalry

Orientation volunteers gave the 250 incoming students a tour of the campus. They showed us the libraries, physics, chemistry, workshop and other departments. 

My favourite orientation-day memory is not about the campus or the departments.

One of my fellow incoming classmates held the door open for me. Chivalry never goes out of fashion. I shared this memory with him recently. He forgot all about it. I did not.

Boys, if you take only one thing away from this article: Hold the door open for girls. They will never forget it.

The Other Two Girls in My Batch 

The other two girls from my class were nothing like me. 

• I was conservative and traditional. They were modern.
• I wore a half-saree. They wore tops and pants. 
• I attended a Tamil medium school. They attended convents and spoke fluent English.

None of this mattered. We were on this journey together and became great friends. 

Workshop? Smithy? Lathe? For Girls?

The blacksmith’s smithy, the carpenter’s workshop, a turner’s lathe — these are no places for the delicate hands of girls — so they say.

Not in my books.

These places were daunting for many, but not for me. They provided for great experiences. Though exhausting, I enjoyed them all.   

Join me in the next part of the series where I recount my experiences in the workshop, smithy and lathe.

I’d love to hear your thoughts about my experiences and my writing. Please leave a note in the comments section with your thoughts.

Thanks to my beloved @Anew for inspiring me to write about my IIT days.
Image Credit – Michael Marsh from Unsplash