I still remember the corridor outside the All India Students' Association (AISA) room in Jamia Millia Islamia, on evenings before a general body meeting, when pamphlets sat in stacks by the door and everyone lowered their voice without being told to. Someone always arrived early to sweep the floor before the discussion began, an unremarkable habit that told you everything about how the room understood discipline. That memory belongs to a version of student politics I no longer take part in, though it still guides how I read every protest I have covered since.
I write this piece as a journalist, no longer as a member of AISA, an organisation I left over differences of my own. I remain indebted to it all the same, for it gave me my first class in political science and in democracy, and for a standard of seriousness I still measure other student groups against.

