For us in the St: John’s college, Agra, the neighbouring Agra College was an enigma. The student strength during the late seventies was a whopping twelve thousand. Classes started at five in the morning. Many working men and women attended courses like LLB, M Com etc before sun rise. Also, those days, the campus was notorious for the ruffians among the students. Despite the enormity of this breed, there weren’t any law and order problems. Of the innumerable incredible stories coming out of that campus, we were particularly amused by the ones starring the legend like Hari Singh. Hari Singh was a former student of Agra College. After his formal education there he never left the campus. Every morning he would come to the college and leave only very late in the evening. He controlled those ruffians with magical effect and took upon the responsibility of maintaining calm in the campus. Even the college authorities welcomed his presence and considered him an integral part of the campus. We couldn’t believe when we were told that he even can declare a holiday for the college. Venerated and feared by one and all, he grew in stature. The Hari Singh diktats were unquestioned. Yet he never misused the unlimited power he commanded. Agra College was his passion. He worked tirelessly for the wellbeing of the college.
A Modern Day Mahatma
One day we got news that the final of the intercollegiate Basket Ball competition of the Agra University was to be played the next day between traditional rivals, Agra College and RBS college at the Agra College. My North Indian friends cautioned me against going there but I couldn’t resist the temptation of witnessing the match between two strong teams.
On reaching the stadium, I was surprised to see a large number of students wielding hockey sticks. They occupied one side of the stadium. “They might be there just after the hockey match final”, I told myself. But then, so many of them?
After occupying ‘strategic positions’, these boys started shouting provocative slogans. My friend sitting beside me told me that they are from the RBS College. Small missiles started flying into the court. The atmosphere was getting tense. As the profane slogans showed no signs of abating, a fragile figure emerged out of the crowd, walked to the center of the court with folded hands and appealed for calm. He said, “ The students of Agra College and RBS College are brothers. In a match only one team wins. Whoever is the winner, let us all accept them with sportsman spirit”. When every word was greeted with high pitched hoot, the diminutive man retreated with a sense of shame, failure and helplessness writ large on his face. With time ticking away and the situation getting worse the very same man appeared for a second time with folded hands and repeated his appeal for peace. The reply was a repeat performance from those boys who were now preparing to play basket ball with hockey sticks. The man retreated. “What else the poor man can do?”, I asked myself in desperation. After a few moments of tension, just when we were preparing to see the worst, with all hell let loose, the very same man appeared for a third time on the court. But this time he was not there with folded hands. I saw fire in his eyes. Pointing to those ’bad boys’, as if he was pointing a pistol at them, he proclaimed “Hereafter nobody will make any noise. This is Hari Singh saying”. Just two short sentences and the man disappeared into the crowd. I couldn’t believe. The fragile diminutive figure no way matched the icon in my mind: A six plus heavy weight with a heavier moustache? But I had to believe. All pandemonium instantly stopped as if it was switched off. You could hear a pin drop. Even the winter wind refused to blow. With everything including those ‘bad boys’ frozen, Hari Sing ordered the start of the event. There after we could hear only one sound. The tap tap sound of the ball hitting the ground and of course, the referee’s whistle too.
Back in my hostel, The Haileybury House, I told myself “whoever trying to bring peace is a Mahatma. Forget about the means”. An event which would have landed at least fifty students in hospital with broken skulls passed off so peacefully. Thanks to the one man army called Hari Singh. Indeed a modern day Mahatma?
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