Chaklala Scheme 3 : Part 4

Still in September 2006

When I was coming to NUST , I was handed a huge book which scared the crap out of me . The book was known as SOP or the standard operations procedures.  It was an army style manual which listed all the rules that were to ruin you for the next four years. Reading the details, the manual said we were to bring five white shalwar kameez , three white bedsheets , a white shirt and a grey  pant , oxford style shoes …..etc. The list was never ending. Initially I was flabbergasted at what I was reading. “Are they serious ?“ was what my brain was asking. Upon confirmation from the authorities , it turned out they were damn serious!   

 On the orientation day, I kept in mind the SOP, which was again organized in a shoddy old building now known as old NUST HQ , I felt strange , very strange. The primary reason was that I was the only one wearing the SOP mentioned “uniform” while all the other lads were dressed casually. This wasn’t the first time in my life, where I dressed in complete contrast to the crowd around me. The humiliation that you feel in circumstances like these is matchless. You feel like the clown of the class. But still I slowly sat on a seat and began listening to the boastful speech being given by some professor. The professor was mentioning the awards and achievements of NUST , which now after seeing the campus I knew were all blatant delusions . Never the less I knew I was stuck here  for the time being, and decided to make a few friends. To my disappointment, I couldnt find anyone around me to relate to. It seemed that people came in groups from certain schools and they were hanging out in those groups . Never the less I just walked around and tried to kill time. After some three hours , we were taken back to our legendary campus at scheme 3. I could not tolerate watching the “campus” and decided to skip the orientation and head back to my home.

 I slept my way through the day. In the night, another surprise awaited me when I was going to locate my hostel. The name of the hostels were “ Makkah plaza” , “Jeddah plaza” etc which ironically reminded me of saudia. My hostel was located on top of a shop, which we later called maghroor shop. There was a barred gate at the entrance of the hostel which just reaffirmed my belief that I was officially going to a jail.

Inside I was to meet our formidable foe for the next two years, Honorary captain Warden Afzal. My first meeting with him was casual and he kept reminding me of the rules as I was trying to find my room. All my dreams of a normal – drama style university life were slowly shattering into tiny pieces.

Alas, I learnt that I had to cope with this new contrastingly-different lifestyle, even though I hated changing myself.