The year was 1986. I was in my 3rd Semester of MBA, at the University Campus in Calicut. TV came to Calicut in 1984 and the hostel did not have a TV.
You need to know the atmosphere in the University Campus those days. Only the rank holders get admission to the PG programs in the Campus, and the Campus offered and still does offer only PG programs. Studying in the campus was a honour, as the seats are limited to 10 or 12, and only the best from the Malabar region of Kerala manage to get admission. Most of them were from poor family, bookworms and had no life outside their chosen area of specialization. Sports was a distraction for them, and they spent most of their time in the classrooms or in their department library or in the huge University Library. They hardly socialized.
The only extroverted students were us, 11 MBA students (out of which 3 were day scholars, and one a girl), the MA English students (mostly girls, including the daughter of the then Vice Chancellor) and the Journalism Students. The Campus was also a breeding ground for the ultra left political philosophy, who thought TV a luxury and a bourgeois conspiracy.
We approached our Warden, who was a Psychology Professor and our Organizational Behaviour faculty with a representation to provide the hostel common room with a TV. He flatly refused citing non availability of funds. In typical MBA students style, we never gave up and pestered him day and night. Fed up, he gave what he thought was an impossible solution - raise half the amount for a TV and I will get the University contribute the other half. We were aghast and cried foul. Half the amount was Rs 4000, which is equal to four times the entry salary for a MBA fresh recruit. He was adamant and smirked, confident we will never be able to raise Rs 4000, in two weeks time leading to the World Cup.
We went on a fund drive @ Rs 20 per head. Remember that Rs 20 was a princely sum those days. And the social objective students, who had government subsidy flatly refused to contribute. The ultra left went on a counter offensive. They labelled MBA students, us, Capitalistic evil. But we persisted, begged, cajoled, threatened - but raised Rs 4000 by the 9th day. A major success for our tenacity and management skills.
The warden was shocked when we dumped Rs 4000 on is table, a collection of Rs 10, Rs 5, Rs 2, Re 1 notes. And he didnt know what to do, as he just did not have the other Rs 4000 fund. We were devastated and were downcast in our Department Reading Room, when our Head of the Department, a Syndicate Member, walked by and asked us the reason. He listened to us and asked us to join him with the money collected. He marched us to the Vice Chancellor's house, and asked us to recount our story. Then our HOD used his considerable persuasive skills, and political power to get approval of another Rs 4000 from the VC.
The TV, showing only Doordarshan, was installed with much fanfare before the opening match. The matches were held in Mexico, and the first match was at 11.15 pm in the night, ending at 1 am. The second match commencing at 3.15 am to end at 5 am.
Our routine was something like this. Have dinner at 8 pm. Play Cards in Francis's room till 11.10 pm. Continue the Rummy after the first match, till 3.10 and then off to bed with bleary eyes at 5 am (It is another matter that the hall was packed during the matches, with even the ultra left students sneaking behind after the lights are switched off to watch the match. This gave us immense satisfaction. We, of course, sat on the front row - as a privilege for bringing the TV to the hostel). By 8.30 am, we are all in the Reading Room of the Department, with heated discussions about the previous days matches and the prognosis for that days matches. It was a terrific experience, what if it adversely affected our studies and health. We were rewarded with the glorious spectacle of Diego Maradonna at his best, the wonderfully talented Danish team that was so tragically beaten in the second round, the attractive Brazil, the ruthless Germany who kept on coming back. So many wonderful players - Maradonna, Rumeniegge, Zico, Socrates, Careca, Scifo, Blanco, Butrageno the vulture, Michael Laudrup, Larsen, Platini, Mathaus, Linekar.
And we were close to the soccer crazy Calicut City. If you walk in the City, you could hear nothing other than people discussing football during those 40 odd days. Calicut is a city that rarely sleeps, being a transit town. But during the World cup, the streets were empty and one could only hear the sound of the crowd and commentary that emanated out of TV, wherever one walked in the night.
So many wonderful memories. An unforgettable experience for more reasons than one.
