It was almost ten years back that I got admission to the journalism and mass communication course at Bombay University. The admission process was tough, but my test article on ‘The future of communication and media in India’ was somehow selected as the best. My marks were nothing great to talk about, still, they were good enough for the University.
My parents were reluctant to send me to a journalism course. I had shattered their dreams of IIT, IIM and NRI life. But they still harboured hopes of some change in my decision. They kept buying application forms to various institutions and entrance tests, hoping to entice me with the offer of big money and fame.
It certainly did not help that I was alone in my career choice as all other kids in my locality and those of my parent's friends were already at different stages of the ‘professional course’ lifecycle. I was not sure but still held on to my decision somehow.
I wanted to stay in a hostel, away from my parents. My home and the University were at opposite ends of the city. At my parents’ insistence, I imagined travelling in the local trains and buses to go each day. But one trip to see the University before joining took almost three hours, and the decision was made.
The day of admission was chaotic, with three of us struggling to reach on time. I had all my bags packed, and ready to move into the hostel. We kept the bags in a storage room outside and went into the admission hall.
The hall was filled with kids and their parents and what seemed like their extended families also. It looked like a picnic with small children running around between the seats. We got a seat in the last row, and soon my parents started mingling with other parents. The other parents did not seem so sad about their kids’ educational choices.
I started looking around the hall, searching for any familiar face. I saw one kid I knew from the cricket ground and I got up to meet him. I tapped his shoulder and asked, “Rohan, you are also taking admission here? I did not know you were interested in this course!”
It took him a couple of seconds to recognise me, and he got up. He smiled and said, “Oh no! I just came with my cousin and her parents for her admission. They are not from Mumbai, so I came to show them the University and for her admission. By the way, I am joining for computer engineering. My dad had booked the seat two years ago. Classes will start in a month. So tell me, how did you get interested in this course?”
I replied, “I was never interested in Engineering or Medical courses. I am hoping to be a good journalist. Let’s see how it goes!”
“Hmm. Good. Hey, this is my cousin Durga. I guess you both would be in the same class”, he said, introducing his cousin. I had not noticed the girl sitting next to him till then. She seemed tense and gave me a nervous smile. I said hello and returned to my seat.
My parents had already created new friends and were worrying about the future of all the kids sitting in the hall, by the time I returned. The admission process went on smoothly and I was also allotted a room at the hostel, which happened to be near the same institute. My dad and mom who were normal till then became strangely emotional when they had to leave me at the hostel and go, even though I was just three hours away.
My stay at the hostel was one of the best times I ever had in life. The freedom of the new life was what I was looking for, even though I missed my parents and the food at home. The facilities and stuff I considered normal at home became luxury at the new place. There was no privacy anymore, with the hostel rooms looking like a playground and people walking in and out all the time.
I shared the room with a senior journalism student named Abdul. I was expecting ragging and teasing from seniors in the hostel but Abdul saved me from all of it. He was into student politics at the University and was respected everywhere. He took me under his wings and took me along to the various hangouts spread across the place.
The classrooms in the University were totally different from what I had seen in school. The look and feel of the rooms and the seating arrangements were totally different. There were only forty students out of which fifteen were girls. Classes started with introductions and slowly we got to know each other.
We were introduced to the course and the syllabus by a Professor named John, who looked like a sage with a flowing beard and greying hair. He insisted on getting the basics right, the ethics and empathy of news reporting as well as the need of staying apolitical in our life, to work and report without bias.
Slowly I realised that most of the students were looking at visual media rather than print journalism. Their focus was more on presentation and speech, rather than reporting and writing.
I gained two friends for life at the institute - Rishi and Mathew. Rishi was staying in the same hostel and Mathew in a rented apartment outside. He came from an affluent family and could not adjust to the meagre surroundings of the hostel. The friendship with Mathew opened the world of photography to me. He had the latest and expensive cameras at his disposal and he taught me the basics of photography.
I learnt it with the feeling that it would be helpful in my reporting career, but I slowly developed into a good photographer of nature. Some of the photos I took using Mathew’s camera got published in a few travel publications and this increased my confidence. I begged my dad to fund a new camera. Though reluctant, he felt that it could give me some learning and an opportunity in future, and bought me the camera I was looking for.
My article on ‘Street life of Mumbai’, based largely on photos was published in our quarterly magazine. This gave me an opportunity to apply for an internship at the Indian Travel Magazine. I met and assisted Jayanth there, and he became my guide and guru. The internship became a turning point in my life, giving me an aim and direction to life.
“Photos alone do not make a travel report interesting, as the accompanying article also has to be equally good. We have to do the travel for the readers and make them feel like they are visiting these places. They have to look at the places through our eyes. There should be something for each type of traveller - the casual ones, family travellers, adventure junkies, the extreme travellers - in what we present”, Jayanth used to tell me. He used to take me as a photographer in his travels, even after the internship got over. He offered me a job at the Indian Travel magazine by the last year of my course, and I accepted it without a second thought.