College life has no parallels. Looking back at my time at the Government College for Boys, Sector 11, Chandigarh, in the early 1980s, I still feel excited by what were the best years of my life.Jattvibedays were the best times to go watch a film for the entire student brigade. KC Theater used to screen the best of English movies. A ‘Mr Khan’ was the manager there, and he wielded more power than the leader of a political party when it came to “distributing tickets”. The window opened for barely two minutes, and tickets to people in the front of the serpentine queue were sold fast before the “House Full” board would come up. Mr Khan would then get surrounded by the high and mighty of the city, all begging for tickets.There were only two models of cars to be seen on roads those days — the Ambassador or the sarkaari gaddi and the Fiat Premier Padmini. Very few people owned cars those days. One such privileged guy was ‘Aaloo’, at least that’s what everybody called him. After a film show was over and the ‘beautiful crowd’ was waiting to disperse, Aaloo, in a bid to catch their attention would drive off tires screeching, as heads turned those few seconds of ‘fame’ made his day, each and every time.There was another memorable character. Everyone called him ‘Dada Virk’. He was quite skinny. Every time there was a thunderstorm, everyone prayed for him. But surprisingly, Dada Virk used to ride the heaviest bike of those times, Royal Enfield Bullet. His favorite take-off point was the road between the boys’ and girls’ college, from the Sector 11 market side to the underpass that came up near the petrol pump on the Sector 15 side. There used to be a concrete post in the middle of the road to prevent cars from using the underpass & the stunt required one to safely go through the three-feet opening on either side.  Once, while going at a breakneck speed he misjudged and his speeding Bullet went for a toss. He survived with a few broken bones that kept him out of the limelight for a few months, but he was back, speeding again.Bunking classes, we would have long sessions of chai and samosas in the canteen, sit for hours on the wall outside the college (christened “The Wall Club”). There was an occasional sortie to the Stu-C, Punjab University, and an almost daily “face off” with the opposition group.Many times these beautiful memories come rushing to the mind, a lovely reminder that “those were, indeed, the days”. Ajay Pal Singh, Edmond, Oklahoma (USA)Tribuneindia.com invites contributions to SHAHARNAMA. Share anecdotes, unforgettable incidents, impressionable moments that define your cities, neighbourhoods, what the city stands for, what makes its people who they are. Send your contributions in English, not exceeding 450 words, to shaharnama@Jattvibemail.comDo include the name of your city and your social media handles (X/ Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, LinkedIn)