On the eve of a Chemistry exam...

Yeah, yeah, so I didn't think of a better title, shoot me.

Intriguing thoughts lost amongst the pages of my physics text book. Not a very happy thought, is it? Some would say it is, considering they're the some who do the whole oh-my-God-don't-think-so-much thing on me. But it's the loss of a good Blog post, which matters a lot...

Although what I would vouch for was that it had something to do with the soundtrack of The Lord of the Rings. Yesterday's thought process is slowly seeping back in as I write this on the eve of a Chemistry exam as the text book awaits me. I've wondered more than often how to-be engineers keep up with their literary side, especially if it's their more favoured one. A quick browse through all the blogs of campus folk makes me realize that nobody's writing, except for the odd post by Bing. The semester being way more hectic than the previous one doesn't help. I just realised that joblessness was a sine qua non to whatever good writing i came up with. All my reading and writing happened when I had to think of what to do next. Today, I have to push the guilty pangs aside while sitting down to pen my thoughts down. No more mooching around of the mind, no more aimless straying. Dinner is assigned half an hour, a walk with a can't-live-without friend is assigned 45 minutes, that too after extensive persuation.

I miss writing on pen and paper. Universally anachronized as it is, I'd never thought I'd prefer electronic piling of data to good ol' fountain-pens-and-crumbling-paper. I miss the tranquil ambience of Coffee Break where I could sit for hours of unadulterated nothingness. I miss the home-like feel of Fergusson Road where I'd wander alone pretending to the world and eventually myself, that I have a task at hand. Somehow, it's the same feeling you get when you fake a phone-call.

Yet another ambiguous post. Last night was a Lord of the Rings overdrive. Enqueing the whole soundtrack in a Winamp playlist and plugging in earphones and getting lost in the realms of the Third World, as though I belonged there – It’s a different feel altogether. Every note played by Howard Shore and co. was upto the brim with emotion. Every tune, every refrain was there for a reason, I thought. Never before has a soundtrack so beautifully portrayed the feelings of characters, and never before has a fantasy movie made me believe in it to this extent. It's a dream to be in the middle of an large auditorium, eyes closed, and the soundtrack playing all around me. I do think it'll make me go over every incident in my life, for every key played in that epic musical extravaganze stood for something I'd felt. Something beautiful.

I can see my chemistry notebook peeping at me with the 3-D noughts and crosses page conveniently open. Goes to show what I did in class while the prof was trying to drill CFSEs and Strong Fields into my head. Which further goes to show how much more I need to do. Snapping back to reality, let's quickly put this up before the writer's jinx catches up again...

PS - I just realised "Phashinating" is gathering dust. Mr. co-author, take note.

Random Thoughts, Episode 3

Random Thoughts, Episode 3

1> Bhimsen Joshi sounds better through laptop speakers.

2> Feels really good talking to shippy after a while.

3> Afternoon baths in late February. Sounds like the name of Georgette Heyer's newest book.

4> Rishikesh DOES look like Firenze the centaur. I don't know what's weirder, the fact that Tuffy actually thought about it when I told her, or that she agreed. Kudos to Tuffy, my patient listener of Random Thoughts.

5> Random Thoughts are my favourite posts.

6> Bing's latest post made me think. About couples and spring. About the overratedness of touch, yet the necessity.

7> I want to be able to write like Richard Bach. The feeling's always there in the back of my head.

8> I found my pendrive!

9> Why does the sense of security QUARK left me with seem false?

10> I heard the word meglomaniac on Boston Legal yesterday. Made me feel good about myself.

11> We should allow ourselves some leeway when it comes to pronounciation errors.

12> Random Thought posts are like fillers. Senseless yet essential.

13> HP called his room a brothel. Men cum and go all the time, he said.

14> Speaking about Geography always reminds me of the Ness Wadia road and the cute chic I used to check out all the time.

15> Why do I number my random thoughts? Does that kinda beat the point? Never mind...

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

Random Thoughts Episode 2

Random Thoughts - Episode 2

1> Writing is an awesome substitute for self-pity

2> It's nice when folk recognize certain words as must-be-written-by-me.

3> Is having no people who you've been with for ages a good thing?

4> Somehow, I can never get over the word "algorithm"

5> Richard Bach loves flying. I have reason to believe he can find a flying metaphor for just about everything.

6> Why do philosophical insights happen only during really interesting and thought-provoking Physics lectures?

7> I just called "derogatory" and "ostensibly" big words. I'm slipping. Some people might tell me I'm maturing.

8> It's been a while since I read a Wodehouse.

9> I think I'll be really happy the day I stop caring about comments on my blog.

Coffee Break, Part 3

The last day in the big city. Feeling blue, quite seriously. Not really the emotion I expected at this threshold. After days of meeting my folk, being called thin so much that I felt all wizened and emaciated, four days of mood indigo, some feel-good and some feel-hollow rendezvouses with people, and other vague randomness, it's time to get back to where I belong. I'm spending time in the most obvious place I'd think of spending this evening in - Coffee Break.

It's not fun to say goodbye. Not fun at all. A day with a goodbye is not a good day. Never. Turns out I behaved astonishingly maturely towards the goodbye. Surprised myself. Usually, these forced goodbyes make depress me to no ends, but this time around I was up and around straight-on! Had I grown up, or had my innards frozen, I asked myself. Bah, not the time to think.

There's a bunch of people who're evidently from Delhi. The first words uttered by the girl when she entered the shop just gave it away. The accent, the casual attitude, the cautious yet careless stress on certain parts of the sentences, were all signature Delhi. I suddenly missed my CH1 corridor a lot. Especially the northie blokes. All the Delhi things - the classic Hindi, the righteous and playful swearing, the sheer loudness, the in-your-face sexual humour, and in spite of all this, that intense camaraderie and swearing by the people they held close - I miss all those. Never thought I would, considering I'd cursed them all some time or the other, especially exam-times. Today I found myself wanting to go through all that stuff. It's funny how some things silently become an integral part of your life. So silently, you never know they're there till they're not around any more. Funnier still, although they happen all the time, they're make you feel just the same on realisation, every single time. If I'd have to describe the feeling, I'd call it strangely hollow yet complecent.

Neha's borrowed my latest Richard Bach find, so I've switched over to Shantaram. I got the how-long-do-you-take-to-finish-a-damn-book-man from people recently. I just figured I like slow reading. Reading to absorb every detail, every word and every phrase and how beautifully they've been used, each metaphor and most importantly, every ounce of inspiration I can gather from the author. More than saying I've read so many books, I'd really like to say so many books have inspired me.

Getting back to Shantaram - I think I've got the gist of why the book's gained stupendous popularity. I'd wondered a while back, as to why a fugitive's tale would fascinate millions across the globe. When Mum asked me this today, I found myself giving her quite a satisfactory answer - The book's about freedom. And deep inside, skin-deep for some and way deep down for others, everyone desires freedom.

I found myself wondering what real freedom is. Whether it is, as Gregory David Roberts puts it, the power to say "no", or whether it's something else entirely. One thing I have a firm personal foothold on, however, is that real freedom is more difficult to achieve than any of us can perceive. Real freedom is when we are liberated from, quite simply, everything. And the one type that prevents most of us from real freedom, is social restrictions. To consider it blasphemous to alter the rules and regulations set by our own ancestors - humans, to be exact. To be bounded by boundaries created by our own kind, the one that makes mistakes.

And yet something inside me told me social restrictions are essential. To prevent society from going haywire, to prevent utter chaos. Is this another paradigm set in the past which could be shifted from? Or was this the proverbial Catch-22 situation which made real freedom unachievable?

Or was real freedom simply the power to believe? The faith in your own self, the faith in the fact that oneself is free? Do those who claim to be absolutely free, just believe so strongly that there's no questioning the thought? Is it really that simple?

Maybe i need to read the book more. Or maybe I need to give it more thought.

Or better still, maybe I need to stop pointless thoughts.

Having said all that, I feel incredibly imbecile!Oh, for the record, this place is playing Sinatra today. I was pleasantly surprised when I entered to here ol' Frankie's voice. Happy change from the usual hip-hop and dance numbers playing here. Way more blissful to write while listening to Jazz.

Bleh! I wanna continue reading Shantaram. Curiosity about the story combined with a wanting of widening of perspective. I don't wanna say goodbye to Coffee Break. This place has given me loads, even in the little number of times I've been here.

But for now, I'll just do a pirouette, take a bow, and hope to write further parts later.

Starry eyed

How many times does it happen that you get back to putting finger to keyboard and decide to post your thoughts up, because of a 35mm flick? How many times does a movie touch your heart so warmly that, in the words of Madhura, "It's almost unfair if you don't put something down about it". This one's purely inspired by Aamir Khan's latest masterpiece, Tare Zameen Par.

It's amazing how the man, adhering to the theme as it was, created a piece of art that can inspire the good in a person. It's the simplest of storylines. A dyslexic kid, neglected during his childhood, meets angel-in-human-form teacher, who recognizes his dormant talent and brings out the best in him. TO most, it would sound like the most overdone of Bollywood stories. This is where the execution of the film comes in, and quite literally, takes our breath away. The movie, after a point, is not about dyslexia anymore. It's not about a kid who's rubbished by society. It's not about how parents should raise their children, it's not about how teachers should be. It finally comes down to whether we're willing to build an individual-based society. A society where the development of every member is equally important as the development of the society in general.

I dunno how, but something that Rowling mentioned in Deathly Hallows just popped up. It's actually just a phrase. Geller Grindelwald's motto. "For the Greater Good". For eons together, there have been conflicts on whether the lives and fates of single individuals helps society on it's way, or gets in it's way. It's been one of those unsolved debates that we all talk about. Hundreds of kids with dyslexia are passed off as mentally retarded, when it's quite the other way round - they're way ahead of us where brainpower is concerned. Those hundreds of kids could've lead normal lives, but at what cost? Is it worth it? Will all those kids turn out to be Albert Einsteins and Thomas Edisons? Is it worth the effort and time to identify these children?

I'm not here to feed fire to the old doubts. I'm just intrigued by the subtleness by which the subject has been approached. The very basic fundamental of life. Individualism. Something I consider of utmost importance. For me, individualism is realising the simple fact that society cannot get where it needs to without every single member raising the bar for himself all the time. A dyslexic kid can think way beyond a normal one, but can he put it across to anyone? Can his talents be recognized by the standard techniques of recognition we have set? Where's the loophole here? Can we seal it at all? Does individualism, when contexted to the dyslexic kid, mean taking him a few notches up the rat-race or raising society a few notches up? Then again, what do we have to compare against when we have society?

Where am I headed to? Just this - There is no wrong and right in this. It's about belief. Whether you believe in the fact that every person counts, or you believe that a selected few can take society to it's pinnacle. It's worth the thought.

Blah! Enough of that. For those who haven't seen it - Stellar performances by Darsheel Safary and Aamir Khan. Also the kid who's polio infected.

In the cliched words of them critics - A must watch!

Coffee Break, Part 2

It's been a fun day. Had a enthralling football session in the morning. Ain't it funny how a football game you win is always enthralling, be you in the big league or be you I-play-football-cuz-everyone-does? Come to think of it, it's the same with any game. Come to think of it, it's the same with everything! Ah, me and my generalizations...

Had a very nice afternoon. Spent most of it reading up about excessively random stuff over the net. Amazing how useful a tool the net is when you REALLY need to unwind. I could write volumes of useless knowledge based on a day of the internet, and trust me you will, it would be REALLY useless. Not many things relieve your stress as much as useless knowledge does! I'm not gonna get into examples, partly because it would just be plain boring. Mostly because I don't have any right now, being in Coffee Break again. Loneliness as usual.

I'm halfway through "The Bridge across Forever". Trademark Richard Bach material. When I say trademark, I mean this - everytime you read the book, there's a different interpretation. There's a different outlook, a different perspective is built. A lot of the intense thinking in Coffee Break I spoke about in Part 1 was inspired by that man. "Illusions" is possibly the one book I'd call my bible today. A must-read, I tell people. Sometimes I wonder whether I should roam about with a "Practice what you Preach" board hanging 10 inches away from my nose.



There's a girl here today who's beautiful. I don't even wanna call her "hot". She's just plain beauty. Caught her eye a couple of times. A general good feeling. They're playing weird crazy frog-ish music. I hear an incredibly fascinating remix of Crazy Frog and We like to Party (better known as the "vengabus song"). Just heard the "I like to move it" mix. Memories of the Madagascar addiction on campus come to me. I suddenly miss the campus a lot. I should start calling this place the memory place instead of the solitude place, shouldn't I?

I really think the stuff and way I write depends quite a bit on my desktop wallpaper. When I write, the notepad window is the only one open,if you don't count the occasional spell-check through the Oxford Dictionary. Am I getting too conscious of my writing these days? I almost wondered aloud. Everything I write is running the gauntlet before it's approved. of course, the gauntlet and the criticized is both me, which makes the whole thing very interesting.....

I met Duks and Varun today. Felt good. Caught up with old times. Swapped weird stories like old times, and Duks came up with the weirdest one. Just like old times! These people are one of the few here I don't find jejune these days. And I try and convince myself I haven't become snooty. Sure.

I've to meet campus folk for dinner in half hour's time. Looking forward to it quite a bit. How long has it been, a week since I left campus? Goodness me have I become impatient or WHAT?

Why the negative words today? What's with all the self-criticism?

I was about to end it here, but the usual whooping feeling is making me go on. I sat looking around for a whole 5 minutes before continuing here. Finished the remains of my once hot Mocha. Read Asimov's short stories for a while. Watched amusedly as a guy tried to impress his girlfriend's friend with his palmistry. watched a man outside desperately trying to sell of his day's stock of lockets and bracelets to collegians hanging out outside Coffee Break. Blankly stared at a No Parking board for almost a minute. Had few more looks at the beautiful girl.

And then I realized I don't have anything to write about! How many times does it happen that we wait for something we want to come our way, and know that it won't? How overrated ARE anticlimaxes?


Very.

Random Thoughts Episode 1

I hope and pray this to be the beginning of a great great series :D

Will be updated as and when they start spilling outta my brain and start showing themselves around.



Random Thoughts Episode 1

1> Why do Random Thoughts that make considerable amount of sense disappear right before you put them on paper?

2> They say the dreamers are the doers. I somehow think most of the dreamers are only dreamers. "All doers have been dreamers" would be more apt. But then, who cares about the dreamers if they aren't doers?

3> How is it that we idolize so many different people, who are all so remote that you almost end up believing they don't have anything to do with each other? Maybe YOU are the link...

4> Richard Bach is God. Just God. Every line he prints is has all the prudence you'd ever want.

5> This is a pliagarised thought - Any book can be your Messiah's guide to your thoughts. It works. Take any book and open any page, and the answer to your latest query in life will be there.

6> Isn't it hard to write something when you're forced to write it? I find essay writing in exams the hardest thing to do. Never have I been able to write something when someone's told me to. Some people tell others to write. Period. That can't happen. Epitomizing this are people judging writing skills.

7> Why do I think a million times before pilfering even the tiniest of snippets from books I've read?

8> Does the name JD bring with it the general megalomania? I pray to the almighty it doesn't :-|


9> Random Thoughts are fun to pen down, especially when you know nobody's gonna figure your head out.

For the heck of it

It's been such a mediocre day, I wonder why I'm writing at all. It probably has something to do with the major writer's block I'd had a few months back. Dozens of incomplete posts and another dozen of unposted ones, I finally declared it high time to clear the block. It was quite the advent for me, this realisation. To the people who'd tried to convince me that a writer's block is a myth -


A conversation with Maddy left me wondering whether I should do something for QUARK. Seems like the right thing to do. All that jazz about next year being a tad too late to start and third year being very late was churning through me. I don't know what to write about that. It's just one of those conflicts which don't have anything subjective to say about them - it's binary. Still thinking.

Went to Marz-o-rin today. It'd been a while. Felt good to dig in to those sinful chicken sandwiches. Rode Divya's bike there on the way. Delightful in general :)

That's about all that happened today. Oh, of course, except football in the morning. Felt pain in muscles I'd forgotten existed. It's a brilliant feeling, especially after a long hiatus from the game.

Coffee Break. Part 1

Pune hasn't been as tenebrous as I thought it'd be. Or maybe I just like to overdo things, and maybe it was never gonna be as boring as I made it out to be. The campus had been so insanely nice to me over the last four months, I'd forgotten I had a life in Pune. I'm typing this in Cafe Coffee Break. Sitting alone, as usual. Been ages since THAT happened. Memories of hours spent here with a PG Wodehouse and Mochaccilo to keep me company flood back. Pre-entrance exam days. What times they used to be. The solitude, the intense thinking about literally nothingness, the awesome coffee this place gives me, the ocassional catching of the eye of a cute girl sitting somewhere around, all of it. Never since I've left for campus have I gotten that kind of solitude. It's people all around the place, people in hostel, people in class, people when I go to Nescafe or Monginis. Maybe that's what making the Pune days not half as bad as I thought they'd be. Lonliness reloaded.


A JEE class reunion happened yesterday. With the people I'd spent the most constructive two years with. Maybe not as academically constructive as past ones. I was quite at a loss of thoughts when our prof called it "a gathering of the future of India". Didn't last too long. First thing I wondered about was the "India" part. I don't wanna enter that cliched area, but the whole brain-drain saga came to me. Then I wondered, almost aloud, about the whole phrase. How many of us would actually make the difference? How many of us would be lost in the sea of dreamers who just wanted to make a difference? How many of us knew how vast that sea actually was and how many of us just thought we knew? How many of us even cared? How many of us were there just for the free food? I casually threw a look around, as if they were hearing me and waiting to answer. A guy next to me was playing Snake on his phone.

The food was good, though.


Had a wonderful meeting with the HCL main guy of the Pune office. It was routine work, but my first stunt at the routine. Amazing how accurately Chief and his cronies had worked out the sponsorshup simulation game. Complete with reactions and expressions and talking styles.

It's barely 7:30 pm. Coffee's really good. It's cold outside. Possibly the first time I've had a hot cuppa here. I can see a couple hitting each other outside. I can't say whether they're being playful or fighting. I wonder why I'm wondering that.

Anywho, I'm off. More from this place later.

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.

Vis(ta)-a-vis Windows

There's a strange sort of euphoria associated with suddenly get access to the web and staying up till post-midnight. After playing a fair bit of catching the cook with the general chaos Microsoft and HP created in their co-ordination, I finally managed to catch Vista by the scruff of the neck.

So here I am. With one of the jazziest but suckiest OS ever seen. It's pretty weird, compulsion is, sometimes. After all the criticism I've heard of the system, it's pretty hard to see the good side. They're trying hard to make me see the cute little gadget bar on the side which is useful as hell. To see the awesome visual effects, the general feel-good factor about the system. All I can see, however, is the terrible speed. The frequent hang-ups, the ubiquitous feeling that Linux users are taunting me. Trust me will you, that it's no fun.

It's crazy the way people curse Vista around here. Mr. Gates is right on top of those hitlists. Almost to the extent of dissembling. For technology retards like me, it's all the same. This feels like going back to basics, but a computer is a goddamn machine. All I care about is whether it allows me to go online and do the fundamentals. But yet I can imagine the plight of the tech-geeks around here. Grumbling, more grumbling. It's weird.

Things gonna change? I think not.

Disillusioned?

Euphoria, more euphoria and more more euphoria. With all due respects to Palash Sen and Co., I have never seen more euphoria prior to that historic night. The night which would probably be etched in the memories of all who witnessed it. That epic final, that god-sent cricket match, that last catch where millions of Indians broke down in pure joy, and all that jazz. I'd heard about the cricket-craze in India. Thought I'd seen it too.

I'd seen nothing.

BITS, Pilani - Goa Campus auditorium. One of the largest in the country. 2100 people stuffed inside, somewhat resembling feathers stuffed in a pillow. At every little edge India gained over our spitefully treated neighbours, explosions of sound filled the air. 2100 feet kicked up dust when they jumped to their feet at every run made and every Pakistan run prevented. Girls who I'd started to think never performed the physical act of speaking were jumping up and down with craze for the game. For a guy who didn't care two hoots about cricket, the experience was disillusioning. I realised I'm in the wrong country if I don't like cricket in here.

Sitting with a group of people consisting of guys screaming their throats sore and chics blowing kisses at every man in blue on screen didn't help. Neither did the other people who gave me looks like I was a bug when I emerged out of the audi with a perfectly straight face. HOW could i not like cricket? How could I not be filled with an orgasm-challenging intensity of pure ecstacy? Nobody knew, nobody cared. India had won the T20 World Cup.

An eye-opening night. To add to the fun, it rained. Now THAT was when it really began. Nikita and me went racing in the tearing rain, with water cutting through our skins and screams of happiness emulating from us. For her, the happiness was the World Cup. Me, though, I was just happy. I was totally unimpressed by the whole cricket deal, so I couldn't really capture it through that avenue. But the rain pushed my spirits up by MILES! I felt free. Liberated. Caught the vibes from the air.




Maybe it had something to do with Test 1 getting done that same day.
Maybe.

Sticking to the blog-title.

I just realised I've been to Mumbai and back six times in the last two weeks.
I
've seen the same crappy movie thrice. It's funny how they invariably show garbage-stuff there.

I've lived three days in the VJTI hostels. Studied personalities. Played Chess. Had cold water baths at 6:30 am. Eaten like a starven bull in a mess notorious for it's terrible food. Taken early morning and late evening walks on a deserted ground and visualised soccer maneovers. Spent more time alone than ever.

I know the road to Mumbai now.

Amen.

An hour in the life...

11.24 am.
VJTI, Matunga
Mumbai.

What does a guy do, with an hour to kill, in Mumbai's top-notch engineering college with prestige and all that jazz? Puts pen to paper and hopes the words flow like traffic on an unjammed expressway.



The letters appear shakily on the crackling brand new notebook. Though a prolonged absence from actual, conventional writing is one of the reasons, the main culprit is the resting of my arm outside a third floor window, with my biscep acting as leverage and forearm dangling outside during a midnight conversation, with the wind trying to act more like a tornado. I'd talked about cleavages and bases, among other things.

I have to wait for a long time more. I see the senior students strutting in the canteen with a sense of possissiveness. I hear the loud discussions on Orkut, i hear the somewhat muffled girl-talks about the return of an ex-flame. A black and white cat smiles at me as it walks by. I smile back incredulously. I think a girl somewhere is trying to catch my eye but that's just my imagination.

I've been running around for almost two hours now. Hostel fees, Bio-datas in the office, a random line which turned out to be one for the railway concession form. I glance outside on the basketball court and feel a dead hope of seeing a known face. I've already stalked the college to that effect once. Puneites don't usually come on this of the country. They don't like the climate.

I glance at my watch. The impatience is starting to seep in. I feel my feet rhythmically under the table. I think of the person who slaps my thigh in irritation when i do that. I miss her.

I see friendships being bred here in the canteen. Some will last.

This ain't gonna end man! Another damn half hour to go! I randomly think of Ninitha and her accusations me stealing her bakarwadis. I realise my writing's beginning to smoothen out.

I consider going for another walk around the campus. Feels good walking through an array of emotions. The college is a minimised version of the great city it is in, I feel. I drop the walk idea. Jus cuz I can. I minor commotion is caused when a guy almost steps on the cat.

I put my pen down and look around helplessly. Time seems to crawl and itch it's way across. I begin to play Tabla on the table. A few heads turn. Only for a moment.

I realise I've been stealing looks at a certain girl between sentences. I take a long look at her and turn away an instant after she looked at me. I can feel her inquisitive eyes on me as I write. I try to straighten my posture.

I begin dreaming about good old times. Times on the tekdi, in the university. I think about whether they're gonna come back, ever. Thoughts turn to the future. I start missing a certain person a lot suddenly.

I slow down, realising I can kill more time and write neater that way. I recall a joke about killing two birds with a stone.

I'm whistling Johnny Cash's "I Walk the Line." A guy two tables away hears it and quick turns around in recognition. I go on whistling. I realise how much I adore whistling. I turn to a new vague tune. I think about the new earphones I need to buy for my iPod. I contemplate on whether to go for Philips or Panasonic.

My watch tells me it's 1 minutes to go. It's started raining outside. I think of getting my third cutting chai before i leave. A guy at the next table is narrating a joke. The girls listen intently, the guys seem uninterested. In another corner of the canteen some people start singing. The girl I was looking at goes upto the food counter. I resist the temptation of following her with another chai as an excuse.

I believe it's time I start packing. It's been a fun hour! I put my pen and notebook in my bag, get in my raincoat and head to the auditorium........