The gender imbalance at Powai is well known. If the present day residents think it is bad, it was way… way… beyond-bad those days. If you were on friendly talking terms with a girl on campus, you were a hero, and much sought after for an intro.
The women students had to walk down the long corridor from the Physics Department to the Admin building on their way to their various classes. In doing so, they had to walk through a guard of honour or run the gauntlet – depending on the viewpoint – of pubescent hormonal boys lined up outside their various departments along the way.
This used to remind me of a Brazilian song which had become very famous around that time. Adapted to our reality, it went as follows:
Tall and tan and young and lovely
The girl from EE walks to her classes
And when she passes,
Each one she passes
Goes “A-a-a-h”
When she walks, she’s like a samba
That swings so cool and sways so gentle
That when she passes,
Each one she passes
(On her way to classes)
Goes “A-a-a-h”
Oh, but we watch her so sadly
How can we tell her we love her
Yes, we would give our hearts gladly
But each day as she walks to her class
She looks straight ahead, not at us
Tall and tan and young and lovely
The girl from EE goes walking
And when she passes, we smile,
But she doesn’t see.
She just doesn’t see…
No, she never sees us.
Before you jump to conclusions, trying to match the year, the department, and such to figure who exactly was this tall and lovely lass, let me warn you that it is a composite picture of many girls put together. They all walked the guard of honour; they were all admired from afar. The really clever ones pretended not to see us lining the corridor.
Some had time only for academics; some found time for a campus fling. A lucky handful found the love of their lives. But all were admired from afar.
