Nothing but bookshops on our walls

My heritage college has little to offer; no bookstore with overpriced books, no stationary shops or sprawled out theatres or glossy ID cards. Outside its gate, which closes only during elections, its reputation is decaying, rusting with each passing year. But I will defend, not with silly cricket-match like patriotism but with rationality. The rigorous paper that we gave to enter this college did not query who the Beatles were or who was Mark Chapman; and before I looked around I thought it was great injustice. Literature encompasses everything and we should be queried about every stream. This was before I met my classmates, many, hailing from the interiors of Birbhum, Medinipur. They do not know the significance of the Beatles; their life was not touched by them but is it not a mistake to deny them a chance to get to know it? A large section, the larger section of my college is like this, intelligent students hailing from suburbs and distant villages in the middle of nowhere who do not own SLR cameras and bands making ‘gravy’ music. As I observe a certain paper promote a dinosaur old card game with an ‘educational institution’ I sit dumbstruck, a few teenagers in branded clothes, guitars and piercings can generate business? An international denim brand won’t come running to advertise when this cobwebby college of mine organizes something, people won’t say something as it’s the best college in Asia (people actually term this to another college… in Asia… for heaven sake grow up… being best in Asia is like being tall in Lilliput, Anjan Dutta won’t use our college as the backdrop of his movies (thank god for that… phew) but I’m learning to like this place.
Ps: There is no tinge of sour grapes as I must clarify, I did not try in the other colleges that I dig above, being too far away from my house.