Rainy Day, Dream Away

Note: This was written days after the Winter 2009 edition of Waves culminated. This was the festival where my batch was in charge, the festival that was known the most intimately by us. Ironically, life caught on and I never posted it.

The rains pelt on. The blues spread their reign all over. Something that’s been more than half a year in the making just burns itself out in three days. Like one of those quick burning cigarettes my hostel-mates tell me about.

To outsiders, it seemed like a feather in the hat of the art of organization. Yet, I find myself wondering where it all went. Waves is just a blur of damage control and crisis management. Somehow, we rescheduled and negotiated and fought our way through and made it work. And just when our worries seemed behind us, the Gods decided to have one little last laugh, and decided to make it rain. Needless to say, people went to town with jokes about Parikrama and “But it Rained”. When there’s been no sleep and substantial amounts of stress, the best bouts of humour come forth. And what better time for those scenarios than Waves! The best one I heard was an overworked coordinator saying “Parikrama’s so old, they should be called Parikra-grandma”.

In any case, the last thing I want to do is discuss shortcomings here, so I’ll leave it at that. Waves was a grand success overall, and that's all that matters.

I spent quite a while musing about weather changes and whether what we’d learnt of the timing of the arrivals of the “rainy season” and “summer” will probably not be what we teach our kids. Hell, we might not even have the same seasons. Seasons change, they say. Not so funny now is it, you metaphoring elitists.

Nonetheless, in my little world, the rains are always welcome. They slow down your thoughts, they slow down life. Somehow, they give you a license to stand and stare, to step back and look at the big picture. To stand underneath the walkway you take every day and pause to look at the leaves soaking in every bit of the rain. To sit with friends, old and new, and sip that lovely tea that warms you up. To learn to tread carefully, lest you slip in the soggy paths.

Someday, if I write a book, it’ll feature the rain. In all its glory and magnificence, in all its ability to make humans step out of the rat race, temporarily nevertheless, and examine the world for what it is.

It starts

Inauguration. They had to play the Love Story/Viva La Vida mashup SOMEWHERE. Just didn't expect it to be at the end of the mime. The effect when those swooning violin notes of Viva la Vida hit, however, was just as expected. The song was made, it seems, for this occasion. When all that Waves was would boil down to this edition.

The world isn't ending anytime soon, no, but the world as I know it, is. It had to be something fitting.

And this was just the icing on the cake. The real deal was the music society guys, with Aseem, Sigtia, Anmol, Chinmay and Navjyot performing a medley to be remembered for years after.

The next few days will be disillusioning, to say the least.

Culmination

It all began in the first week of college when we just heard of it. It was nothing more than a mere legend, something that'd happened in the past and was far, far away. Then Big Break 2007 happened, and that life-changing video happened. The video that decided what I'd give a major part of my college life to. Slowly things picked up, with the erstwhile Sponz club inductions, getting to know senior folk and finally deciding to take the plunge in the festival. Ever since, everything became too speedy to notice as discrete events. They're all a proverbial blur.

Cut to today. Day Zero of Waves 2010 - Viva La Vida. The culmination of the efforts of students across seven batches, brought to you by people filled upto the ears with enthusiasm.

The more verbose I make this, the less important it will be for me.

Maybe I'll finally be able to feel nostalgic without guilt.

Borsalino

Everyone who's read Shantaram would probably find this redundant, but the Borsalino is this wide-brimmed hat made from very particular furs. Now this piece of art apparently digs quite the hole in your pocket, and there's bound to be fakes. In comes the Borsalino hat test. You roll the hat up into a tube thingy, and make it pass through a wedding ring (for SOME reason). After emerging from the other side, if the hat is not all crumpled and messed up and preferably not broken, bingo, you've gotten yourself a deal. If there's creases, you'd better run back and look for the genius who made some quick bucks outta you.

Now some people happened to realize that this makes for quite a handy metaphor. So "putting someone through a Borsalino test" has come to mean putting someone through quite a bit of mental (and possibly physical) stress and see whether he/she (for all you sexists, I said he/she, inspite of HATING it) "emerges" from it without a sign of being "crumpled" or affected by the stress. Us engineers would like a stress-deformation metaphor, but that would involve talking about "hardness" of the person, and it's best to leave that realm of unending innuendos aside.

So anyway, back to Shantaram. GDR describes himself been put through a Borsalino test by a recent acquaintance, to put it very bluntly. Why all this? I suddenly noticed the constant Borsalino tests we keep pushing each other through, in places more than you'd notice if you give it a little thought.

Of course, the "emerging without being affected" now covers a much wider purview. It all begins with the initial one - to put in a more vernacular fashion - the first impression. It goes on throughout the period of knowing a person, and extends to every human relationship that exists. Barring a few relationships with a teeny amount of people, everyone Borsalinos everyone else. I wish that'd become a valid verb.

I'm not even going to begin about whether it's necessary. I probably would have if halfway through writing that, I wouldn't have lost track of the patterns of the present thought vortex. Just that, right now, I think everyone would be much happier if these tests were slashed a bit.

And, I haven't begun thinking about this in detail. Thankfully, I'm somehow able to control these erstwhile unmanaged thought trains. I'll hold on to this thought for later.

Most will argue that these are a part of life. I just wish they weren't.

Oh look, ticks!

Right now, it's just a rant. When I'm thinking a little clearer, I most certainly WILL elaborate, but for now - Politics, is not for me. Not even a little skirmish.

Flip Phone

I have an insane urge of stepping on something and breaking it. Very specifically, a flip-phone. I'm certainly not doing it to mine, mostly because it belongs to Abha and she'd kill me.

Butt I almost sat on it a while back, and I just wondered about the crack, about the sound it'll pass. And I haven't been able to stop thinking about it ever since. As stupid ass it seems, I just had to post it.

Funny, is it?

Y'know one of those days, when nature tries to be funny?

The weather at campus today was arguably the best we'd seen since the beginning of sem. The clouds had made the perfect veil to show just the good side of the sun, and the omnipresent sweat was . There was a calmness in the air reminiscent of a summer vacation evening in Pune, with only football, a lime juice and a Pizza dinner to look forward to. The usually lithe breeze was draggier than ever, the dogs were lazier than ever.Your generic always-in-a-hurry chap, late for a lecture and rushing across the B-wing plaza was nowhere to be found. Pubby was humming "People are Strange" while Bing and I nonchalantly sipped our coffee. The Egrets were invading Nescafe, though I doubt that had anything to do with the weather.

It was THE perfect day to actively do nothing. Not laze around mind you, that would be the sunny day where Mister Apollo decides to blow some steam. Those are the brain-on-standby days. This one, it was a day where you'd dynamically look out for the perfect ways to do all the fun things which would fall neatly under "constructive randomness". A day when the library with it's feeble Air-Conditioning did not feel like a haven. The beach clearly would be the ideal backdrop for all of this, but campus wasn't all that bad an option either.

And we spent most part of this day inside a Chemistry lab, measuring the pH of Acetic Acid while adding Sodium Hydroxide to it. Dropwise.

As a perfect end to the pain, a few moments after I rushed out of the lab to soak in what was left of the day, the clouds decide to vanish into oblivion and I'm left stranded in the middle of the Library Lawns, the sun beating down upon me.

Sunday, the J and Friendship

There's a strange sort of euphoria associated with getting up early in the morning and going to the Jhopdi. For those who're lost, that's a little shack-like place which is your average egg-lover's haven. The only debate about what to order there is between a half fry and an omelette. And a cup of tea being the obvious must. Sometimes two. It must be had in that typical glass made of glass (ahem...) and the glass filled about 3/4th. Sticking to a Delhi-lingo word I've learnt recently - Feel aati hai!

It was Sunday when this particular adventure to the Jhopdi happened. Nothing particular happened there, so stop looking for a build-up. Adventure's just a nice word. Madhura and me were the latest Jhopdi addicts, and Saniya had to have her first time there. So there I was, on a Sunday morning ironically, at the J, with my favourite duo on campus. I had this insane desire of saying "the usual" to the little kid who came up to us to ask what we're gonna gobble down. I fought it off, however, and asked for my omelette. We ate like recent escapees from the Sahara. To put it plain and simple, the J in the morning is pure serene. The campus and the academics and the internet and the weird CS addicts and all that seems oh-so distant. It's definitely the best place for calm and easy-going musing. I could almost feel the vibes of revolutionary ideas of the future springing up in the Jhopdi. Maybe more people would know about it then.

In the middle of recognize-the-song-from-intro on Maddy's cellphone, we were joined by a noisy bunch of annoying thinglets. Not the best thing to say to a group who closely resembles us people when we're at our best. But this was obviously not the time and place for that riffraff. So off we went, and not to be outdone by anything on that beautiful Sunday morning, we headed to Nescafe.

It was one of those late mornings when Nostalgia was the unspoken theme. Some minor comment set off a series of memories from those two ladies at the table with me, who I consider today the epitome of best friends. They're a living example of the fact that all that friends-for-life stuff is not just jazz and cliches. Never before have I seen two people knowing quite literally, everything about each other, from when they took their first steps. Madhura and Saniya that morning, burst open that old argument in my head. About what's the right thing.

Friends, for me, have always been people who can stand up for me. People who I can lean back on, and more importantly, lean back on anytime I want to. And somehow, maybe it's just me, they've never been the same people for too long. Everytime I thought that THIS is the bunch of people I wanna hang out with for a long time, everything would blast. The fear still lives somewhere inside me, even though I've found the best people I've met till date. Madhura and Saniya are idealists. Their friendship what millions crave for, and million others envy. Their friendship is perfect to the extent of unreal. *Crosses fingers lest I jinx it*

Why is it that I lie on the diametrically opposite end of the friends' circle (terrible pun, i know) and yet continue doing the same like I actually know what I'm doing? Maybe hoping for something that perfect is too much, but I feel way far from most others I know.

I sense proximity to self-pity. Must stop :)

And for all the good times to come, *raises a toast* to Madhura and Saniya :D

Campus Blues

So I'm back in Pune again. Traveled in a bus full of collegian couples, returning home after a good time in Goa. Goa didn't satisfy them enough though, or I wouldn't have checked my ticket to see whether it said Honeymoon Travels.


It's been an eventful month between Diwali and the end of Compres. Loads has happened.


To start with, an event that made me a part of what is probably the greatest cult following ever. The Led Zepp reunion. The gig that made Prashant and me go insane over the band for a week straight.

Led Zeppelin. The only quartet arguably as famous as that Fab one from Liverpool. The trademark screams. The guitar solos that told the world what a guitar solo is. The insane drumming from a carpenter's son. Music that changed rock forever.

I'd heard about it earlier, for some reason never given the reaction I should have. This time though, it hit. And it hit hard. It was one of those moments of truth when everything points to just one truth. It's one of those moments when nobody says anything, but everybody's thinking it. This was Holy Grail all over again! This was a stone idol coming alive. This was dreams come true, a gig made in heaven. Bonham's son took over his mantle. I hadn't even heard of him till then. Jason Bonham. Described to me as a "befitting tribute to his father", and that is SOMETHING! The rest of the lineup was the same. As original as it could get.

And the concert was described as the greatest gig seen by many. Plant's voice was at it's best, and Page did a 10 minute Dazed and Confused. It was Nostalgia for many, rediscovery for some, and a new beginning for most.




Then there were the godforsaken compres themselves. Bad, bad times. A little less talking, a little less sleeping, and an immense increase in caffeine levels. The less said about that, the better. A good experience nonetheless. I'm ready to see that overrated place they call hell now!


And then there was those two post-compre days spent in campus. Days that exalted our spirits over the sky. It was amazing and almost amusing to see how we got over the disastrous exams so soon. First there was Bogmalo. We added a few Russians to our elongated list of the scandalized. To singing "Touch Me" loudly at a shack where folk come for peace and quiet to talking about the weirdest of things (read: censorship at work). All hit the J for breakfast the next day and ravaged into the food like the famished folk of an African country. A wonderful morning. Brought about the much-needed bonding back.

And then, after all that, we had to say goodbye.

All those cliched Bollywood goodbye scenes have years of friendships, romances and all the blah blah relationships being said goodbye to. Never did i expect to be part of any one of those, and not even in my wildest dreams to be the part of one which involved friends of 4 months, being apart for 20 days. Yes, that is the extent of the bonding that has happened.

Maybe it's the living in the same campus, eating in the same mess and cursing the same mess food, being together at Monginis till 11 pm almost every. Maybe it's the singing of the weird songs together (The title track of Dexter's laboratory being one of the saner ones we've done), maybe it's the insanely long walks had together, along the Children's park and shopping complex. BITS Pilani, Goa Campus has bonded us like those fevistick advertisements that they show.





It's gonna be a long, long stay here.