It's about time!

"I don't like this place." The lush August greenery could not keep my mind off the fact that I would be away from my comfort zone for four years.
"You'll be alright, come on." said Ma, with a slight tinge of hesitation in her usually sure voice.

Everything draws to a close- hostel life, mess food, friendship and enmity, and another life phase. Four years too many, which surprisingly passed away in a blinking moment. The learning process has been tremendous, the debacles even greater. I can't quantify the things I've gained here, but everything put together, the journey has been enlightening.

I have to thank a few people, lash out at some. I have been extremely lucky to have met some of the finest people in my life hitherto, each capable of scaling great heights in his or her own way. I have lost out on some wonderful people as well, and to them my best always.

Gain and loss are the two sides of the same coin- inextricably connected so as to keep you buoyed at all times. I have gained tremendously in these four years, and lost even more. There's always a hint of sorrow in every achievement. Give me a moment to reminisce about theses four years.

Closures are easy for some, and immensely irksome for others. You can put things behind you and move to a different place with ease, and then you can always be a man of marginal status. I am caught somewhere in the transition, desperately trying to hold on to R for inane reasons.

There were a lot of milestones that I wanted to achieve in these four years, and almost everywhere, I have left the task incomplete. Since we're in the series of lasts, this post will go on the list as 'the last post on my blog.' A hundred I wanted it to be, but we never get what we want in life. Compromises galore.

As I woke up this morning and looked out of my balcony, everything seemed strange. The facade of the hostel, the trees in the garden and the dew on the grass blades. I've been bid adieu, whether I like it or not. I'll carry everything with me, everyone for all the good and the bad. This fabric of woven moments would perhaps be the richest I'll ever have. To say goodbye is enervating, and to leave unspoken even worse. That's the destiny of every page in the book of life, it withers with time. Crumbles, flying off in the gentle breeze.

100 days of.. um, A 100 days

The song- a French rendition Quelqu'un M'a Dit- always takes me to a different world. 500 Days of Summer may not be such a 'wow'ing movie as it is made out to be, but it tells you of a summer fling, a short lived romance. And then, there's Autumn. Another story, another season. Life, after all, does go on.

A 100 days left at Roorkee. That's a third and a li'l less of a year, and a li'l over three months. There was a time when 100 used to inspire awe- a great feat. Today, 100 holds a whole new meaning. It is a number I fear and also eagerly await. A 100 can never be enough to say the things I should, it is also far too long to keep mum about things I feel about.

I will be gone in a 100 days. And in some ways, it's time I did. The trees on the path between the CC and the Electronics department have aged with me, and are now biding me adieu. Nesci has been replaced by Lipton, and RJB is just not the same anymore. R feels a li'l strange now, and makes me realise that the only permanence in life is change.

They say 100 is number of festivities and celebrations. Give a moment to myself, for the reverie can wait. Time, on the other hand, doesn't.

Lingua Franca

There is something about Punjabi songs. The beats, they say, make up for the most atrocious lyrics. For others, a lot of times, raw carnality lights their fire (pun intended, of course). A lot of them don't understand what is being said, but oh! The way them groove to the tune. Fantastic!

Having stayed in the north of the country for a long time now, I can muster the courage to recognize some words. And also, a few phrases which would make any denizen of the Punjab to shame. But then again, I try!

I am proud to say that there was a time when I was multilingual. Five languages, with proficiency, made for a good conversationalist anywhere in the world. And then, yours truly lost touch. Sometimes when I listen to a song a francais, I feel terrible that I can understand words in singularity. And then, there was a time when I loathed myself for not understanding what chokher bali meant when I used to think that Bangla is pretty simple.

Language, after all, gives a sense of who you are, where you belong to, and what you stand for. It makes you communicate with the people you want to, and shuts out the unwarranted junta. Language is a powerful tool, and also the most hurtful. A very few times, things need to be said in a particular way so as to have the desired effect. At other times, verbiage does the trick.

So the next time you speak or listen to someone, put some intent. Be careful of the words, and wary of the pauses. After all, one has to be mindful of the language.

On a cold January evening

"Why can't I be a part of the crowd?"
"Because you are different. And did anyone blame you for being different?"
"No..
I have a lot of expectations from myself."
"We all do, and more often than not, we tend to aggrieve no one else but us. You want to sit down?"
"..."
"I was never a part of them. And they would have wished for me not to be here. But I am, and because it happens this way, let's do something good?"
"Hmm"
"I am me only in front of a few people. Finger numbers. Does that make me less social? No. Does that make me cringe from inside? It used to, not now."
"Can I ask you something?"
"Erm, yeah."
"How can you be so frank with everyone? Open, if I can call it?"
"Because sometimes in the layers of conceit and camouflage, you tend to lose the opportunity to speak what you always wanted to. And a lot of times, time is not by your side."
"I have always detested being this way. But I can't help it now."
"You don't need help."
"But.."
"You have made me see your potential. And you are good."
"But I make most of the mistakes as well, right?"
"And that is a good thing, innit? Perhaps, you are bound to learn the hard way. Nothing wrong with that."
"I want to be a part."
And you are."
"No..
I fought with a friend. It's a special day tomorrow. And I don't know how to make it alright?"
"Call. You have the number? Give it to me."
"No"
"Give it, I promise I won't stalk."
"I won't be able to say anything"
"Don't worry, you will"
"But, I can't. I'll stay silent."
"Trust me?"
"..."
(away)"Hey! So, I have someone who wants to talk to you for sometime now. It's time you did too."
"Hello. Hmm. Um. Yeah. Thik hai.."
(away)"All well? Yeah, alright. Sure, I'll do that."
"What happened?"
"Nothing. Go back, now."
"No.. I need to.."
"Now."
"Oh! Okay..


Thank you."
"Anytime."

The figure disappeared in the dark cold night. A small speck in the background of all hopes and aspirations. Looking around to see where each one of us figures in the fabric, something obscured the vision. And all that could be seen was molten glass. Fluid, stinging and warm.