A silent Adieu!

I bid farewell to Bangalore tonight. It won't be an exaggeration on my part to say that I have fallen in love with this city. The feel of Delhi and Mumbai have very coherently amalgamated to give rise to this metropolis. The people, their warmth and their willingness to help have made an indelible mark on my heart.

More importantly, I rekindled my school days' memories here. SalGo was a great company and I just realised that distance and time don't really affect your bonds if you really value the person. I will always look forward to having such a great time with him again, some time soon... very soon!

A part of me also gained back it's vigour to get back to living life. After abstaining from spirit for a long time now, I let go! It was a catharsis of sorts and I feel purged! The 'ass'-cream (That's what liquor overdose does to you. Heh!) was very enjoyable.. What was it? Yah, Spanish Delight!

I don't want to leave. I don't want to return. But I must and I will. This city has given me a lot in a very small time frame, and I cannot thank it enough.

I will be back Bangalore. And I am taking a part of you with me. I am making it namma Bengaluru.

Of Festivals and Festivities!

I have seen about 20 New Years and Christmas Eves hitherto. Every year, there is the same excitement, the same wait and the same planning which goes in to make the day special. However, the emotions, the hopes and the want change with each passing year. And that is why I guess people never have enough of festivals and festivities.

When I was a toddler, I always liked doing up the fern tree. It was as if I was decorating the most beautiful thing in the whole wide world. The hollies, the candies, the lights, the li'l parcels and the beautiful angel on top! It made a wonderful activity and it's completion marked the end of a joyful task. I always wished for large wrappings of GI Joes and HeMan castles which I firmly believe that I was gifted to by Santa Claus. Thinking back, I never thought that my 'Santa' was none other than Ma. But that's a different story all together. The new year's eve was always a time to go out with family, listen to good music, hug and kiss at the strike of midnight and then come back to the cozy burrow for a good night's sleep.

As time went by, the gifts gave way to bigger demands such as 'I want a cell phone' or 'I want those Air Jordans' and all that jazz. The quintessential feature of sharing small, yet meaningful, presents was done away with and materialism got the better of me! New Year's was a time to hang out with friends, go to clubs, cheat on you 'teetotaler' image and come back in the wee hours of the morning. Quite a drastic change, which I seemed to have enjoyed thoroughly.

Then there were times when I had examinations looming on my head and thus the prospects of going out were nil. Zilch. Zero. I hated those times. I hated flipping channels and watching 'Naye Saal Ka Jalwa' on some godforsaken entertainment station. In retrospect, it was all worth it. The good things did happen to me, and well, 'sacrifices' which were meant for the 'greater good' did bear fruit.

This year, I plan to have have my favourite plum cake with something 'heady' to celebrate Christmas eve. Though, I am not sure whether I will be able to gorge on roast turkey, but I wish this wish of mine comes true too. New Years this year would be a thoroughly family affair with a nice movie to catch up with and some great conversations to look forward to. Oh yes! I almost forgot - Shopping! Now how much cash do I have?! :)

Wrapping up, I would like to wish all of you a Merry Christmas and a very happy and joyful New Year! Hope it turns out great for all you people.

Cheers!

Version 6.0 : Anger

Last but not the least, Anger!

They have always stressed on the fact that I am an aggressive individual even going to the extent of branding me selfish, self-centered and highly conceited. Others have been kind enough to know me, to know the person behind the conceit and have made a great impact on my being. The former angered me to no avail, the latter are the source of my stability.

Criticism doesn't anger me, it did to a large extent sometime back, but now it's just a way of life. When you know you haven't achieved what you set out to do, there is no shame in accepting the fact. It doesn't make you a 'loser' for life... It just gives you another opportunity to get up and get moving. Even though I have a long way to go before I learn how to accept failure, I am at it. The day is not far when I, with my own hands, will pass on the trophy of glory to the true winner!

Anger manifests itself in various forms. It can be through speech, through conduct and through your writing. The least harmful tool of venting your ire is writing. You throw the negativity out of your system by putting it down in words. I am angry that things didn't turn out the way I had imagined them to, but then for how many of us does it turn out to be a dream come true? I was having a word with a 'down-but-not-out' soul like me yesternight and I realised that when things go bad, as they mostly do, what comforts you the most is your space - home! No matter how defeated you are, no matter how poorly you have faired in life, you are always protected in those four walls which are guarded by the most powerful tools of love and care.

It is but natural to be angry, and people who have controlled this emotion have evolved from the realms of humanness. I do not strive to be a superior mortal. I want to be imperfect so that tomorrow when I wake up, I still have something to work on. We always strive to make our lives 'perfect' and a wonderful person once told me that the ratio of achievements to expectations should be close to 1. I beg to differ, Sir. Give yourself the chance to say 'What If?!...'

Wrapping up my sojourn on the various emotions of a man, I feel a whole lot closer to humanity. I set out to merely reflect my own experiences here, but after having undertaken this journey I can safely proclaim that the learning experience has been a success in terms of bringing me closer to people, to my near and dear ones and to myself!

With my 20th post in place, I am happy that my blog is now as old as me! Celebrations called for.

Champagne, anyone?

Version 5.0 :Surprise

The oft heard responses: 'What?!'... 'Are you serious?!'... 'Get out of here!'... 'WTF?!'... (Profanities censored)

And the mellower ones: 'Really?!'... 'oh! That's new/nice'... 'oh.. okay!'

This post is about instances and the appropriate responses this semester.

(A) Beginning of the sem, just when I returned home after gorging ravenously on food at home. "Anunaya, you've lost more weight!"

Response: 'Really?!' *rolled eyes*

(B) Three of my sophomore brethren are 'reverted' to their original branches because of Administration's fault.

Response: 'What?!'

(C) A 4 day strike is announced by the faculty protesting against the step-motherly treatment meted out to then by Ministry of Human Resource Development.

Response: 'Are you serious?!'

(D) The strike is called off in one day, whilst I am relaxing at home.

Response: 'Get out of here!'

(E) I announce to the folks in Roorkee that I shall no longer run away home at the drop of a hat.

Response: 'oh! That's new!'

(F) A random conversation with the Electrical junta wherein I state that I shall fair miserably this semester.

Response: 'Get out of here!'

(G) I am told that "my writing is pathetic."

Response: 'oh.. okay!' (In retrospect: 'ha ha')

(H) I am watching 6 flicks back-to-back on the 20th November, 2009. A virtuous human being tells me the exams are 3 days away.

Response: 'Are you serious?!' followed by 'Go die!'

(I) Minutes before the last exam begins- Material Science 201 A *shudder* - and someone announces "Golu Sir (our educator) is dead!"

Response: 'oh! That's nice'

(J) "I think I am falling for you.. if you get the drift!"

Response: 'What?!'... 'Really?!'... 'Get out of here!'

Version 4.0 : Sadness

This is one emotion that perpetually haunted me throughout 2-1! It made me miserable beyond repair. However, we should give the devil his due and thus, it is my duty to carry on with the 'emotion'al series.

Day 1: 23.07.2009

I arrived at 'R' with a new sense of being, belonging and zeal. Now was 'MY' time... or so I felt. I was heinously mistaken. The world had changed in 70 days. People had changed, and sadly, for the worse!

Day2: 24.07.2009

As I set foot in Room no. 326 of the Department Electrical Engineering, I was excited. I calmed my nerves, gulped a gallon (?) of water and breathed heavily. I looked around. Unfamiliar, yet warm faces. But something was amiss. My Batch-I. The class where I enjoyed myself to the brim in the freshmen year. The gabbars, the Khetans, and the Agrwls. Something just wasn't right. And I knew it all too well.

Week 3: Somewhere in September

I was looking forward to my annual Mumbai trip. I had packed my bags and was ready to devour the Balti Prawns at the famous Mahesh Lunch Home. But Lady Luck was not too generous this time round. I was bogged down with a horrible bout of influenza and the plan was washed out!

Month 4: November, in entirety

They say when there's darkness all around, a ray of light becomes your guiding force. Unfortunately, the ray of light never en'light'ened my topsy-turvy existence. Tsk tsk..

Now without delving further into this muck, I shall wrap up. The enhanced levels of seritonin have done enough damage. I wish to dig myself in a mountain of chocolates. Or maybe, the peanut butter-jelly sandwich and the pot pie will be the ultimate comfort food right now.

Straight to the kitchen, shall we?

Version 3.0 : Love

*Drum roll*

Now here comes the mush.

As much as people proclaim that they abhor being romantic, and dislike the coochy-cooing happening all over the place, Love is something you cannot escape. It plagues you, takes over your being, and makes you evolve in more ways than one. Love is a necessary evil, like education. And thus, I'd deal with this emotion in much the same practical manner (If at all love and practicality can go hand in hand, this is my shot at the impossible)!

Back in Roorkee, even though most of us are busy with different chores at hand, the presence of the four letter word in our lives is quite prominent. When you meet friends after a long break, you instantly feel a sense of warmth filling you from within. When you talk to a junior and narrate 'personal pages' from your diary of experiences in college, you feel closer to that person. When you walk hand in hand with your belle along the Thomson Marg, you cannot but feel elated at that very moment. There is one common thread sowing all these moments together. Love. And it comes in all forms.

I am a big one for mushy flicks. I have practically grown up watching Pretty Woman, One Fine Day, Sleepless in Seattle, A Lot Like Love and the likes. As a *chronotron* puts it, "You like chicklit?" Yes, Sir! I do.

Off late, a lot of people I know are 'settling down'. They've found their companion, the wavelengths have been matched and the midnight calls started. Initially, it really peeved me. It seemed futile and it still does actually, but thinking about it now, I feel it helps these honourable mortals. It's a stabilizing element of sorts. You calm down, look at the world as a better place, and try to be a better person. Good till the honeymoon period lasts, and Insh'allah, I hope it does for a long time for most of them!

I also know that most of us are alone. The only solace I draw from all this is the fact that there are others like me, and so, we are all together in this. I am not whining about how some people are 'lucky' and others just the opposite. I cannot. I should not. I have a beautiful home to come back to, some very caring friends to rely on and my own self to take care of. That's a handful for sure!

So next time, look around you. Look within yourself. Look at places you've hitherto found insignificant. And you can't fail to notice that "Love, Actually (C)" is everywhere!

Version 2.0 : Joy

At the outset, I don't think I am in any mood to write about the 'joys' of the year gone by. I need time to fully recollect all the 'joy'ful experiences that have woven the fabric of the year 2009, but as the next emotion to surface is the one above mentioned, let me strain my thoughts here a bit.

From the 1st semester on, I had always planned a breezy trip to Rishikesh. The white sand beaches, the narrow alleys and the cozy cafes were something that delighted me beyond comprehension. And this wish came true on the 12th of September. We were 6 of us and believe you me, the company could not have been better.

First pit stop, the Italian cafe with its delectable Lasagna, Anchilladas, Buritos and Cajun Chicken sandwich which was smoothly gulped down with a glass of fresh pineapple shake. The taste of the overpowering flavours still lingers on my palette. Bellying ourselves to the brim, we meandered through the hitherto unexplored gullies of the town where I was surprised to find Synagogues and Tibetan monasteries coexisting in complete harmony. We moved on to the most ethereal part of our sojourn... The white sand archipelagos. If the eyes could devour, then my sight gobbled on every bit of the surroundings. It was unreal, it was too good to be true. On my way back to Roorkee, I had a perpetual smile of my face. Beautiful, it was!

Then there was the impromptu trip to Haridwar after a couple of weeks which turned into a glutton's fiesta as I sampled my favourite fig and strawberry ices at B 'n' R. The stop at the Ganga Ghat was a very calming experience. They say spirituality heals the soul, and today, I cannot agree more.

There were other experiences too. The ones at Thomso '09 with my fellow comrades and the nouveau beings on the team. Then there was the birthday bash, and ultimately the umpteen number of chapos.

It is very strange how mollifying writing can be. After having written about the 'joy'ous incidents of the past few months, I feel upbeat. Somehow, I am enthused with a sense of contentment and a hope for a better new year. It's good to be reminiscent about your past, especially when it pertains to the 'good' moments.

Allow me the liberty go 'back'. I shall return, after a short sabbatical.

Version 1.0 : Fear

I walked the hallway- the familiar dark dungeon with rooms of the mighty mortals on the right! As I paced forward, I knew I had arrived. The wait was over, formalities completed and registration forms duly filled out. I had arrived, yet, with an unnerving sense of apprehension.

'Fear', I call it now!

The entry to the Electrical Engineering batch of 2012 came about with a gargantuan sense of uncertainty. Regarding friends, of the days to come and basically, to sum it all up, the process of assimilation. I knew only a single soul on the 24th of July, 2009 in the milieu of a 111. Today, I can very proudly proclaim, that I am well acquainted with about more than half the strength of the class. The fear still lingers in me- 'Am I a part of the group, or is the perception of me being an outsider still there?'. Well, such questions may never be answered and thus I will have to be content with the status quo.

A very different kind of 'fear' - if at all you can call it that - was of the much talked about pig flu! Yeah! I was s'oooo' scared. I even left college a few days earlier than the scheduled vacations just to save myself. Alas, thinking of it now, it was all fun! Running off home on the pretext of something as silly as H1N1 made me a complete jerk, which truly I believe I am! *nods profusely*

Yet another 'fear' came up on the psycho-emotional front. The fear of being alone. I have always maintained that I am a people's person, and to this day, the notion hasn't been challenged. But somewhere down the line, I felt very lonely.

Void. Vacuum. Nothing.

I still reel under the same fear. Travelling back home last night, I was taking in all that passed during the last 100 odd days and take my word on it, I was very sullen. As the train pulled out of the bustling platform no. 3, I wanted the fear in me to melt away. It did to some extent, yet not completely. I don't know when I'll be back to my normal self. They say time heals all, and thus, here I am swiftly keying in each character with utmost sincerity, hoping that the 'healer' gets to work A.S.A.P.

'Fear' they say, makes you stronger. Antithesis if you ask me, but then again, I cannot deny the fact that I feel stronger as a person today than what I was sometime back. It's good to be scared. It makes you realise the importance of being content with what you have.

It doesn't take a genius to know that we tend to run away from what we fear, and I am merely doing the same. I don't know whether that is the right way of doing things, but I know for sure, it's the best option that I have. To save myself from further turmoil, I need to retract into my groove where the bogeyman cannot stalk me.

Boo!

NOT!

A semester in emotions!

At 2 AM on this 1st Day of the last month of an exceptionally long year, which seemed to have passed in a giffy, with an abominably intimidating BM-201 examination looming on my head in about 7 hours, I cannot think of anything better to write about. Tomorrow on, people are 'packing their bags' and are 'ready to leave'. Yet another semester has drawn to a close and yet another year has passed in the book of life. Give me a moment to ponder over the happenings of this year, and more importantly - as the title of the post indicates- the semester '2-1'.

First and foremost, I am fairly certain that by Thursday I'll be 3/8th an engineer. Why engineering? Well that's a different story altogether and such discussions should be initiated in a comfortable ante-chamber on a warm winter afternoon over a freshly brewed cup of coffee. *bliss*

Adding to the senility of my actions, I just googled the 'different types of emotions' and what flashed on the screen is reproduced below;

"The human emotions can be classified as primary, secondary and tertiary emotions. The primary emotions are:

• fear
• joy
• love
• sadness
• surprise
• anger

..."

Thus, I have decided to write 6 posts, about these very 6 emotions that I encountered this semester. Allow me to recapitulate the experiences of the past quarter year and give me the chance to present before you, my version of human emotions albeit in a furiously personal way.

Till then, it's time for me to get back to the mundane and gooey world of Business Management and Material Sciences and I can bet this for sure, the emotion I am experiencing right now as I type this very word is definitely not 'Joy'.

Still on a high!

It's almost 40 hours after Thomso 09 drew to a close. About a 100 hours of hysteria, frenzy and unadulterated fun. And after all that jazz, I am not ashamed to admit that I am still on a high. More than a joyful period, I will revere Thomso 09 for the learning experience. A few points worth mentioning here would be;

1. Watch Out! for the best

There is a strange sense of satiation that fills me from within. I am not content with myself at all, but I do know for a fact that I tried, and real hard at that. Working with the re'freshers' was an unexplainable experience. To interact with a score odd junta, each unique in their own way, made me realise that the knowledge pool of the world is boundless. We learn from everyone - some having a superior content than the others- and hence, we evolve.

I have no qualms in admitting that I learnt how to be a good human being, again. To see my 'juniors' work for the greater good gives me a strange kick! *hic*

2. Watch Out! for the best already known to all

To all my sophomore brethren, Salaam! I am immensely grateful to each one of you for making me work to the best that I could (well, not the 'best' actually. Quoting a virtuoso, "It's all about pushing your limitations to redefine your potentials"). A few hitches here, a few goof-ups there but nonetheless I have gained infinitely from this experience. Thank you for the support, the cheering up and the honesty. A time I'll remember for a lot many days to come, take my word on that!

3. To the biz-magnet himself

Whilst all the running around and pandemonium, there is someone who put up with all of it. To him, I shall always be obliged. Apologies for the time not spent with you during the carnival of zest. I know you always understand, and that's what makes me feel a tad bit more guilty. Cheerio Sultan, cheerio!

4. For the man himself

To be a TOC member was his 'juvenile fantasy', or so he claims. But to take that fantasy to this level and to make it thoroughly professional is the job of a man with great character. To the sardar who I always dissed, I am proud to proclaim that he proved me wrong. It's not easy being in his shoes, and examples of the past are but a mere reflection of the same, and to brave those enduring times with unlimited perseverance is what makes me respect him even more. After all this, it doesn't take a genius to figure out why I was glassy-eyed seeing the 'man' on stage that night! Congratulations Aman, great job!

So now that I have bared it all, It's time that I return to my subdued (?) self. I shall have to endure the hangover now, but one li'l birdie tells me that the party's just begun and you shall never know what I did last night!

Verses, not quite!

I can never write poems. Never could.

There was this one time in school, 11th grade if I am not heinously mistaken, that my teacher asked us to pen down our thoughts on 'Harmony'. I was in one of those 'oh-I-so-don't-want-to-do-it' moods and thus, this was my magnum opus;

'Harmony, oh Harmony!

Where have you vanished this day?

I was content with the free classes hitherto,

This English pedagogue is the cause of my dismay!

.. '

And then the poem went on about how I would have murdered the Mathematics teacher, and how cacophonous was the Physics teacher's ranting. 'Harmony' was completely disregarded. But obvious, I did not submit this master piece. Instead I wrote one of those really sentimental verses on 'Love thy brother' and 'We are all one', and I never really liked it.

This sudden sprouting of poems on 'Blogosphere' has made me very jittery. It has reminded me of that treacherous day in school. But more importantly, it has made me realise that I am a complete novice when it comes to appreciating these jewels.

A thing of beauty is a joy forever. Well for me, more often than not, I always end up going through verses in haste as I really cannot sample the delectable taste of the master's writings.

But I do promise the Shepherds, the heat-stricken victims in October, and the root 3 mathematics geek (!) that I am trying real hard. I really ought to do justice to your writings and thus I have vowed to read through, very patiently at that, each and every word of thy composition.

Till then, bear with me. I am an apprentice at work, and I shall not let you down!

*Salute*

Of Crest, Of Trough!

I remember, vividly at that, my physics teacher in 9th grade teaching us longitudinal waves. She had a peculiar gastrointestinal problem and whenever she would say the word 'trough', it would metamorphose into something like 'trrruuu..' (burp!).

Anyway, that is besides the point here. May her belly rest in peace, or atleast allow others to live in peace.

I am here to talk of Hope, and of Despair.

How would one feel if he is told that he has only a few days to live? That his days are numbered and breath counted. I cannot particularly empathise with the bloke here, but all I can say is that the first response is that of numbness. Second, of suffocation. Third, of unknown and unwarranted calm. You know the end, there is no mystery shrouding it now, but still your heart tells you to look away. To let it be in the dark. To be intentionally oblivious, knowing that it's futile.

Now what would you do if, god forbid, you are at this crossroads?

A few days ago, the media was splashed with news of a certain Ms. Ray fighting myeloma of a rare kind. I personally abhor the intrusive facet of the media world, but this time, it was different. They were giving the lady support. They were spreading hope for others. Ms. Ray was not to be bogged down by the imminent end. 'You are not going to have the last laugh!' is what the lady radiated. And for that, I salute her.

To know you are reaching the final destination is frightening. To reach there like a lamb is brave, believe you me! But to come to an end with gusto and a verve is what makes one a hero. To spread hope to those lambs is nothing short of godliness.

So next time you see someone down and out, just don't lip serve his situation. Try to be with him. Try to assuage his grief. Positivity is around him, make him see that. E pur si muove - and so it moves!

Try to be his hero!

Metro Aunty!

This post is purely a work of fiction and bears no resemblance to anyone living or dead. I cannot recall the other part of the statutory warning so let me NOT exercise my bird-brain too much.

Have you met the Metro Aunty?

Have you faced her wrath?

Let me introduce you to the newest predator on the block- The Metro Aunty!

Ever since the Delhi Metro started getting 'derailed' from the right track and it's subsequent 'crumbling' under the 'stress and tension' from the Delhi Government, the corporation has decided to check on the security aspect of the operations. Thus, the Metro Aunty was born!

How does a Metro Aunty look like?

She is your typical h'A'lthy punjabi (NO offence meant) aunty ji. With curves that literally kill you (of shock) and a voice that makes you accede to the fact that a crow's cacophony is the sweetest sound ever heard, you can't miss her. Statistically she is about 40-45 years old, stand at 5ft1, weighs in at 170 pounds and is always seen in brightly coloured Indian apparels.

What does a Metro Aunty do?

She is a beauty on duty. Whenever you want to travel the metro, you have to go and talk it out with her. The first interrogation, "Aur bhai! Kahan ja rahe ho?" has to be politely replied. Then the conversation follows wherein you need to convince her that life isn't that bad even though the pulses are costing a fortune and that the sixth pay commission isn't a farce. Once she is satisfied, she leaves you with a friendly (back-breaking) pat on the back. If she isn't satiated, you're done for. I shall not get vivid about the further details.

If there is an anomaly, she gets mean. She will force you to discuss the latest sitcoms on Star Parivaar and shall not leave you till you convince her that bottle gourd is an inexpensive vegetable.

Why the Metro Aunty?

She is the perennial benign (yah right!) security chick. You can't, even if you force yourself, ogle at her. She can get as personal and intimate with the women miscreants and can deliver didactic sermons to young lings.

So next time you travel by the metro, beware! She is right there, waiting for you and hoping that you'll fall in her trap. Watch Out!

To you!

Why is it that whenever I read a post, the first thought to strike me is, 'I wish I could write even half of this.' And the people responsible for this criminal thought are none other than the people who are widely acknowledged for their brilliance.

There is a certain 'leftist' who leaves me awe-struck after every line he pens down. There is a certain big-'Bang' who writes just like he is - superb. There is a 'princess' who likes to write "not not" to please someone, but for herself. There is a Shakespeare incarnate who pours his heart out, leaving me gaping at his excellence. There is a certain 'Pee-Gee' who is dyslexic (read: spellings) but I am yet to come across a wittier, yet mellow, writer. There is another 'ET' who is great and I always try, I repeat, try to emulate him. But alas, I fail miserably. There is a pseudo 'Frenchman' who writes as if words are his monopoly and his style.. commenting on it would be doing injustice to literature. Yet another 'wrestler' namesake who is a wonderful human being, and whose writings are nothing short of precious gems.

It is rather very quaint how people influence you to such a great extent. And I am glad that they have. It has made me a better writer (I'd like to take the liberty of concluding thus), a more aware individual and an evolved person.

So just a plain-simple thank you folks! Saying anything more is going to ruin it. And that's the last thing I want.

To me!

On my way to a hog joint this afternoon, I was listening to a song very close to me. A song which forces me reminisce about achievements. Of failures which made me face people I had left behind while going up the ladder. It's strange how a song, and that too a 3 minute long ranting of an obscure singer, make a person so overwhelmed.

This post is an outcome of nothingness, and thus, on a selfish note, I am addressing it to me!

Of all things people say, perceptions are the only facet that determine a person's response towards you for a good sometime. They do change, but how often? How many times have I gone up to Person X, Mr. Y and Ms. Z to tell them I am NOT the way the think I am. I am different. I am not arrogant. I am not a tyrant. I am not a slanderer.

Being branded a certain way is born out of people's need for comfort. We compartmentalise you in a certain category and voila - the work is done! You remain 'there', wherever 'that' is, for me and I know how to behave with you accordingly.

My question is 'Why?'

Why can't you let your attitude, and consequently your behaviour, be decided on a mutual consensual platform. Don't you think, well put yourself in those very shoes, don't you think that you'd much appreciate not being called a 'loner' when you know that you are very amicable and gregarious?

Point two, success is ephemeral. So is downfall. A crest leads to a trough and vice versa. I have been overjoyed with the high points in life and have been bogged down with failures. In retrospect, they seem very trivial issues. More trivial than the trivialities of our everyday existence. But then again, there's always a time when the pettiest matter seem to be of such paramountcy that we let our existence be guided by the circumstances.

Thirdly, we as human beings - creatures with the strongest tool, yet making us weak, emotions - never learn. Once bitten, twice shy is an adage, a hackneyed adage. We never seem to remember it at the right time. Because then, what drives us is this very tool. All practicality fails. All wisdom is futile. Every saying is unlearned. We, at the end of the day, are emotional fools.

I am not complaining. I don't want to complain. I am proud being a fool. I am proud of my failures. I will still try to make X, Y and Z get to know me. Know me to such an extent that they are able to decide, without biases, about the future course of action towards me. So yah! I am at it. I am going to be a part of this rat race and I am going to win some day or the other.

Till then, as any other rat would say, who moved my cheese?

I was here sometime back

Monday. The first thought that crosses one's mind is 'another week' to pass. Morning blues, workload and chores to complete, then why would a Monday, and that too the one 2 days ago, be so special to me? Well, it took me back a couple years. A time when I was 6, or maybe 7.

I was lazing around in my room at about 6 in the evening when Lavi came back from class.
"Are you hungry?", he enquired.
"Yah, a bit."
"Hmm.. me too."
"Let's get some ice-cream at CBRI."

And so we went and got ourselves a matka kulfi and an ice candy. Whilst we were gorging on the cool feast, I spotted something that instantly drew me close to it. Something which took me way back in time. A time when I was a clumsy, irresponsible kid. I spotted a pair of swings.

"Let's go." I pleaded.
"Erm.. you really want to?"
"Yah.. why not?"
"Okay!"

And so, I perched myself on a swing, and like a complete retard, I began swaying back and forth. I finished eating, licked my fingers and felt something strange. Very strange. I felt happy. I felt ecstatic. I didn't feel silly. I actually liked the feeling of me being a 6 year old again.
There were about 50 different people who looked on, but I was least bothered. For me, I had discovered something precious which none of the onlookers could ever help me find. They wouldn't know its value.

I had found the clumsy, irresponsible kid - Me!

A week or two!

Why does it always happen that there are some fortnights where you feel life is your usual drab whilst at other times, a day is as eventful as a whole year? The past week, or should I say two, have been quite an experience. I learnt a lot about people. Learned where I was being preposterous, reevaluated others' opinions and well, 'grew up' in a short span of time.

To begin with, I am now fully aware of the fact that I can make people laugh - at me! I am adept at the art! *applause*
I am also learning how to let go of the negativity that we harbor over trivial, mostly inconsequential, issues. I am amazed at how clever can people be when it comes to 'Oh! You are a close pal, man' but then again, I am mastering the act of forgiveness. It's tough, buster! You bet it is!

A few months back, there was a guy who told me "If you haven't seen it, how do you know it exists?" Well, I thought otherwise then, but today, the guy seems to be a genius to me. If I haven't seen a person commit a crime, I shouldn't charge him either. So the frame shift is from 'guilty till proven innocent' to 'innocent till proven guilty'.

And above all, I am slowly, and steadily, understanding the importance of not evading issues at hand. It's always better to thrash it out rather than quietly sulk, and in the process, weaken the bond that we share. The bond with your parents, with your friends, with yourself.

Avamastu!

Of things lost and of things gained!

Today is the second day of me being a sophomore. Today is the second day of me being an Electrical Engineering sophomore. Today is the second day of me not being in the Biotechnology department. I am happy. I should be content. Elementary, My dear Watson!

Am I happy?

Let's see..

Of the things I gained - a 'respectable' (it's all relative!) discipline, a more comfortable disposition infront of people (I got rid of 'Biotechnology has no scope in India' refrain), and the end of the 'I need to get a branch change' ordeal.

I gained a lot, I must confess. I feel I did.

Now coming to the things I lost - I lost out on great people. I lost out on the juvenile Batch 'I' happenings. I had to part with the company of some really close friends. I know I'll see them around and will try to be with them more often than not, but it's just not the same.

Yesterday, in my new class with new faces around me, I felt lost. I missed the 'We'll study here itself' and the 'bohot bol raha hai tu' rantings. I missed the people who helped me become what I am today in this institute. I missed my comfort bubble.

We as human beings abhor change. Change in any form- sleeping pattern, food, friends, school, place. We loath having to do something new, venture into unknown territories (I am not referring to scuba diving or the likes here!) and change our set schedule. I am probably one of them. I am trying to adjust. I am trying to fit in. I am not liking it, but I know I don't have any other option.

A week down the line, probably, I'll just laugh all of this off! But till then, I guess being lost, grumpy and a lil' peeved is going to help me cope with the situation.

Adieu till then, bird-brain! *sulk*

Clenching a fistful of sand!

At the outset, I will try not to make this an overtly sentimental, rather emotional, post like the previous ones. But due to the content that is going to go into this soliloquy, please give me the requisite space to take the necessary liberties.

It has been a very uneventful summer. Nine weeks of unlimited stupor, unbound rest and gluttony have made me realise the importance of quite a few things. Of my 6 by 6 bed. Of my 2000 square feet floor which I call home. Of a 46 year old beautiful lady who I call Ma.

I came home looking forward to the most relaxing time in the past 12 months. I got that for sure! But very soon, I was also plagued by a benign disease, 'boredom'. I started having my tiffs at home on very trivial, rather petty, issues. I lost my cool when I had to eat okra even though I like it. I was preoccupied, or so I thought. But that wasn't enough. I needed to go out. To rejuvenate. To escape to a place I hadn't been before.

Unfortunately, those plans never materialised and I was at one place, mostly the bed, for straight 8 weeks.

The summer wasn't that bad, ofcourse! I met up with school friends. Went to the cinemas. Chatted with my granny for hours together. Started writing a blog. Learnt how to manoeuvre a car and rekindled my old passion of going for a run every morning.

Today, when I have less than 48 hours to head back to my life at Roorkee, I feel lost. I am going to miss everything that I failed to appreciate. I am going to miss the ghar ka khana. I am going to miss my daily routine- of doing nothing! I am going to miss the caressing touch while drifting to sleep. I am going to miss the 'Eat your food properly' refrain. I am going to miss Ma.

It is so very strange that we take these things for granted. We yearn for freedom. We yearn to be with friends. In the process, we underestimate all this. I am here today standing with my fist clenched trying to hold on to sand. I know what is going to happen. I know I cannot change what is going to happen. I hope it takes a longer time for the sand to escape my hands. I want to apologise to each grain of sand for my ignorance. I want to make it feel special. But alas, time forbids me to do so. And so does human nature. We aren't very effusive when it comes to telling the people who mean the most to us, how important they are in our lives. So this is to all of you who have with-held themselves hitherto. Go and give your folks a huge smile and a warm hug before you leave home this time. After all, that's what'll keep them going till the next time you see them.

They deserve it!

If it were as it is!

Before I publish this blog, I want to give you a background to such an effusive outburst of melancholy. This is about all those people who have 'just' made it, yet not quite. It's about those who did make it 'there', but at what price?..

As I walk back to see how far I’ve come, a sense of pathos and nostalgia grips my being. Nostalgic about the times I’ve spent hitherto – good in most patches, not so good in others. Pathos, not in its literal term, but generally for all I missed out. For the boy standing there, at the corner, the junction, wishing to go this way but forced to go the other. Maybe because the ‘other’ way was right. Maybe he didn’t have an option. Either way, it was his loss. To me, it’s been a different kind of a journey. It’s been an experience. Experiences can be good or bad. Let’s go with it then: Experience. ‘I travelled with a hope of never reaching my destination’. What would I have done reaching there? It would have meant the culmination of the journey which initially seems very enticing, but gradually loses its sheen as you start enjoying the process of getting there.

Life’s been kind. Or has it? When I look back at the time when I was just there, yet not completely. Or the time when I wanted to run out and get it, but was stopped from doing so because of circumstantial limitations. We don’t get all we want. They say you shouldn’t. It makes life perfect and therefore, we don’t strive for improvement. Acceded. Great thought. But why don’t we, for once, 'put a smile on that face'. A smile of complete satisfaction. ‘I have it, now! I can be myself’. We tend to lose ourselves in the process of getting there. We compromise to such a large extent that when we finally get what we want, we wonder whether it was actually worth it?! Whether it was worth the gradual degradation of ‘me’. Did I not waste myself , rather lose myself, in the process? I achieved what I wanted, well that’s what all of us say, right? What “I” wanted. Give it a thought. Did “You” really want it? Or were you conditioned to think this way? ‘I want to be a millionaire’. Why?! So that I am respected, I have a lavish lifestyle which others admire. So it’s basically not that you want it absolutely. It’s relative. So we let someone – a whole bunch of them – dictate what we want to do and in the process, we bartered a part of us. What a gain, sir! Bravo! Quite a favourable deal.

You reach the top. You are there, boi! You are the star of the evening. Accolades. Appreciation. Unbound respect. You come back home and feel good. But think now, and be true to yourself, did you not pretend to be someone else today evening with everyone around you? Someone who knows that he has changed over a period of time to get here. Someone who isn’t you. Or someone who wasn’t you till sometime back. Change is the only permanent thing. Well said! But to what extent? To the extent of you looking at another chap in the mirror? Or you losing that ‘personal touch’ that was your trademark? That’s not a wise thing to happen to you, sir. It’s detrimental. Can you do something about it now? No, you’ve come a long way and have become complacent about it. ‘Why bother now? It’s too much of a hassle.’ It is. But what will hassle you even more, now, is the fact that you’ve transformed into someone you didn’t want to be. ‘Whatever you do, don’t change.’ ‘Always be a good human being!’ Heard all this before? Yah, from friends and family. Did you follow what they said? Nah! Fools, weren’t they? Look, I am very successful, so why should I heed to their superfluous advice?

Don’t! Don’t listen to them at all. But don’t feel sorry for not listening to them later.

Why do we at some point in our lives want to relive our childhood? Why the school days? Because we didn’t have any responsibilities. We were carefree. And what did ‘growing up’ do? It metamorphosed us into this completely different person. Someone we couldn’t even relate to ourselves.

Pitiable! Highly.

It's not Time, It's me!

It's almost the end of that time of the year which every pupil looks forward to- The Summer Holidays. It's time for me to pack my bags, head back to my Alma mater and cope with the stresses that the new year will induce in me. However, I just want to talk here about what I felt when I went to school recently, a visit that I never forget to pay to my 'launching pad' whenever I am in Delhi.

This was probably my 7th or 8th visit to Sanskriti after I graduated in 2007. So I wasn't expecting what I experienced standing in front of class 12-D on that day. I had been a part of the institution from July 2000 through March 2007. 7 years! 7 very long years, which surprisingly, passed by in a jiffy. So I shouldn't have felt a quaint sense of loss, a feeling of being alienated.

What triggered this response in me? What was the stimulus?

I walked through the familiar Amphitheatre, through the square Central Courtyard finally reaching my first pit stop- My classroom. It was just the same, apart from the bulletin board which now had the theme 'Global Meltdown'. I cast a furtive glance to my desk and chair. I saw a different sachet, not mine, and I felt.. different. I went back a few years and could see myself sitting on that very chair, laughing at a certain Mr. Mirza (the tenacious Physics teacher) whenever he squealed in horror seeing the blank faces of Neha, Elly, Dhriti and the likes. I went back to me arguing with the industrious Mathematics professor on whether we could just cancel the integral and differential signs and get the answer. And while I was reminiscing, I felt sad.

I met my teachers, most of them just the same. The same ol' Neelakshi Ma'am telling me that she needed to lose more weight to control her diabetes, Madhavi Ma'am asking me why I had 'gone down' so much? And during all this friendly banter, I felt sad.

I met the support staff of my school. Rajendra Bhaiya, much the same, running from the princi's office to the admin block. Ram Baksh Bhiaya trying to setup the biology lab for the upcoming practical exam for the 9th graders. Madho Sir with his usual smile complaining about how I had completely forgotten the ever so helpful chemistry lab assistant in the past 2 years. I enjoyed my conversation with them. I liked the rendezvous. Yet, I felt sad.

Why was I unhappy?

As I write this blog, I can figure out one plausible reason. It wasn't that the school, the classrooms, the teachers or the bhaiyas had changed. Time hadn't changed them at all. But It had taken its toll on me. I had changed. I was forced to change. I was forced to move on. I know we have to let go. Change is the only permanent thing. But did I want to change so much as to feel like a complete stranger in my own habitat? I left behind a lot of friendships and acquaintances on my way to get here. I sacrificed a lot of people, sacrificing myself in the process.

I don't have much of a reason to complain. It happens this way in everyone's life. The key point here is that do you still have the people who mean something to you around? I guess I do. So I can't crib about. But I do wish that the next time I am in Sanskriti, I feel the pulse of the institution. Hopefully, I will. I have to, because no matter how far a bird takes its flight, it comes back to its nest.

If you please, Sir!

I was against the idea of blogging till about 45 minutes ago. I felt quite absurd about the whole concept of you writing a 'diary' of sorts which is not at all personal. I mean, aren't we supposed to keep our feelings to ourselves?! Why need we share it with people who may not even be interested in it? Trust me, I was never fond of reading blogs. I thought, "How do they even bother me?" Well, I was wrong. Acceded. And this transformation is because of a certain 'modest' being who put my perspective in place quite beautifully in the following way;

'Write to please others. And when you are writing, you can abuse anybody.'

This is why I am starting a new page in life (quite literally!). I write with a sense of scepticism, and a hope that what I express here should not be subject to hypercritical judgement by the virtuosos.

I was also afraid of writing because I was never the 'Mr. Fantabuluous Vocabulary' type. Always being a simpleton, I wondered why was there a word such as 'lackadaisical' when it could have been easily expressed as 'lazy'. I was never fond of big words and always felt claustrophobic in the presence of those who kept ranting them. I was never like them. And till date, I squirm when I read the blogs of these 'higher mortals'.

I don't know why you would like to read something as morbid as this. But I do know for a fact that what I write here will be something very 'me'. It may give you an insight into who I am. To start with, I am the hermetical Platonist. I am not your average dreamer. I don't dream of perfection. I don't dream to conquer.

Then why do I dream?

I dream because it is inherent in human nature to dream. To dream of loss, of victory, of failure, of glory and above all, to dream of dreaming. I dream to make my dreams come true. I dream of a boy standing at a crossroads wanting to go this way, forced to go the other. I dream of a hooded mademoiselle standing at the corner of the boulevard, gradually drifting into the darkness of the night.

I know this is not a good way to start the momentous first blog. But I do believe that I owe an honest disposition to my writing. I shall henceforth write about moments in my life. Good moments, as well as the not-so-good ones. Experiences, I'd like to refer to them as. Some very personal, some quite well known. Do bear with me till then.

I do not intend to bore you any further. In conclusion, it can be said that I am a traveller who embarks on his journey with a hope of never reaching his destination...