sojourns of a barren mind...

four days..

2007-10-21T17:04:00.000+05:30

Illness..uncertainty..final call..decision to go..bus..ludda keeping us waiting at the check..malviya bhawan..sleep..cp..tons of juices, shakes and nimbu pani..rented bicycle..sheeny’s lost phone..practises..time to prepare..birla mandir..pavneet ill..kuch kha pi ke jaao….shiv ganga..rocktaves..sleep in the corridor behind the audi..street play competition..hansraj..gargi..loss..kela rabri..sam chaat..stage plays..razzmatazz..lucky ali..sleep under the namaste statue..talk with the team..fight..talk..friends..chopas lost cycle..act and react..sky lawns..pahadi..the trip back home..
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It was a trip loaded with uncertainties.
I had been to BITS Pilani last year, and since I had numerous (literally numerous…on count, 6) very substantial reasons not to go; I was actually wondering should I have been there when I reached pilani.
Now that I’m back, I’m sure I should have been there.
Reflections, musings, bonds, falling convictions, fun…
Whoa sums it up.
Am glad I went there.
Thanks sheeny, giri and sahil(both of you) for insisting till the end that I come.
I’ve found many things; and some of them I so cherish, cant be explained.
Thanks to the street play team. And yes; I so want to go back on my words to you guys.
O HA!

LOVE...

2007-10-21T16:43:00.000+05:30

Can love just be? Not with a person, or an object; with nothing in particular…no; not even the love of existence…but you just know its there, and you are glad to be alive in a world where nothing was ever wrong…or would be…when you know you belong…belong to every place you ever wanted to…no high thoughts; no deep musings…
Just like…they say happens when in love…

So long...

2007-07-03T01:10:00.000+05:30

Its 2:30 A.M. Roop Nagar is a desolate neighborhood at this hour. Jay, a boy in his teens, is sluggishly walking in the middle of the road. Neither too thin nor too fat, decently tall, dressed in a mismatched array of clothes, his pace seems to suggest he’s in deep thought. Both hands in their respective trouser pockets, he walks; eyes looking somewhere at a spot near his feet, which seemed to move as if guided by nothing in particular; following a sensory whim of their owner. The motion seemed effortless, yet weighed down as if every step was preceded by a contemplating query-why?
Jay had no clue where he was going. He had sneaked out of his hostel room after he had felt an ‘indescribable feeling’. He had felt like crying. No; not the wail of a hurt animal, but the muffled sobs of a psychopath who does not want to admit to himself that he has a problem; that of a criminal who hasn’t yet been discovered, who must preserve his secret. But Jay had never granted himself the luxury of questioning himself.
He had felt awful.
He had felt like crying.
He had blamed it on the room.
The yellow paint, newspapers peeling off the windows, the disheveled state of his belongings lying all across the room-yes; it was the room. Jay had convinced himself. Again. This was one thing he was good at. Eighteen years of permitting himself the denial to question his emotions had made him an expert at the art of evasion. He did not know what he felt- he just ‘felt’. He would buy some fresh chart papers tomorrow and replace the newspapers on the room windows with them. Yes; that would make the shanty hovel livable. But presently, all he could do was escape the room for sometime. Now that he was out in the open, he was trying not to think. The room was left behind…he should not have had that clenched feeling now. No; its just the room after all…just the room...JUST THE ROOM!
“Need help, Kid?”
Jay spun around; coming back to his senses, he realized he had absolutely no clue where he was. The place was pitch black.
“Need help, Kid?”
“Who…who is it?”
“Ah! Me? I’m nobody. Literally. I didn’t mean to scare you; just that you’d shouted something about the room. You seem lost. Need help?”
“It’s…too dark…”
The ensuing flare of a matchstick made him jump. He only had a momentary glimpse of his companion. It was an urchin, propped up against a dustbin.
“That’s all I had kid; the last ‘un. I’m afraid there’s no more light,” he paused “just as well...there never really is…”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh; care to listen; do you? Come; sit. I’ll tell you”
Jay thought for a moment, and sat down beside the urchin. He was glad he had something to do. He was away from the room; at least.
“There really is no light, kid. Let me tell you my story. As far back as my memory takes me, I see myself wondering at the futility of it all. Life, in particular. I had potential; I had capability, I had resources…but I was never happy.
“People always said one must live for a purpose. A higher purpose. Not merely earning a huge fortune; not only being renowned…not only inventing stuff, researching new theories, winning battles…but something beyond…something higher…a higher purpose…
“I imagined how it would be to be immensely rich; the vision seemed good…fulfilling…but I was dissuaded and brought back to my senses by the common adjectival connotation used with the very word- filthy rich. And I thought some more. That higher purpose seemed nowhere in sight. I remember myself as a student at school…then at college…then at my workplace…I thought of aiming high; but then I tried to think beyond. And at the end, always the question was the same-stark, naked in totality- where’s the higher purpose? What use is it all, anyways? That aimlessness, that lack of direction haunted me; crawled within me...rhythmically resonating in every breath…then came a day when I was fired from my job. I wasn’t particularly sad. No more than I usually was. That was the day I started in the pursuit of the purpose. And here I am today. In bliss. I know, Kid. Now I do. Trust me on this. There’s no purpose. That, indeed, is the only purpose- to live aimlessly. Others would put in effort, struggle, suffer…and maybe they’ll reach somewhere…me? I’ll do nothing…I’ll just sit here and wait for death to come…but ultimately, we’ll all die...how does it matter? There’s no purpose…”
Jay sat still. He was horrified. His eyes were closed, and he wasn’t listening anymore. He knew what sat beside him was the ultimate degradation a human form could achieve-consummate filth.
Jay sat still. He was crying, and he did not know he was. He was looking back. Within, and back. He had wanted to achieve things as a kid. Winning competitions…topping the class…and sometimes he had had his moments of glory…of joy…but then he had been exposed to that blatantly sadistic philosophy of having to live for ‘a higher purpose’. Nobody ever defined it; the only way to reach it seemed to be self-immolation. Want nothing; be detached; aim for seclusion…everything material was evil…and ever since, whenever he lost in a pursuit, he consoled himself by saying that he didn’t care…these worldly achievements didn’t matter to him…that he seeked ‘a higher purpose’…he often said it out loud; in desperate attempts to muffle his internal shouts that wanted him to be angry at himself for having lost…and wanted him to make an attempt at improving himself…at being a winner…NO! seeking the ‘purpose’ was much more easier…and it brought him that sense of calm…a sense of being above the others…others who just wanted to win…to be better at doing things…to improve...to forever keep moving…to seek perfection in themselves…to forever compete…
Tears rolled down his cheeks. His whole life traversed in front of his eyes. He had been conceited…blaming others for his failures…hating everyone else’s achievements…never attempting to earn any of his own; still being jealous of anybody; anybody who was good…he had mastered the art of evading himself. He never had to question his thought; his emotions. If he felt bad, it was because others tried to show him down…if he felt bad, it was because nobody understood him…if he felt bad, it was because he had no purpose…
But wasn’t the purpose way too simple?
To live, and not die while he was still alive?
He stood up.
“Thank you, baba.”
“For what?”
“For making me realize how much I love my room.”

BIODIESEL...HIC! : RELOADED

2007-01-29T19:58:00.001+05:30

It had all begun on thursday.
At a loss of things to do in these extended vacations, me and Sahil took up a paper presentation on 'Biodiesel as an alternative fuel' for a competition to be held at Sri Venkateshwara college (SVC).
We got down to actual work on saturday evening; beginning with filtering the data that both of us had compiled over the previous two days. By sunday midnight, we were done...and we had the satisfaction of having put in a sincere effort.
It paid off.
First prize.
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Please come back.
1>> I dont have anyone to kick in the morning to wake him up.
2>> No one to fight with over who goes out to buy the milk, fills the water bottles and cleans the kettle.
3>> Nobody to tell to shut up.
4>> I did not bring Roasted peanuts. Its your duty to get them for me.(Yeah; i did bring aloo-bhujiya which is almost over. :-P)
5>> Nobody tries to seduce me now.
6>> Nobody to discuss the intricasies of life with a cup of coffee at 3 in the night.
7>> Nobody to help steal the milk powder from Nikhil's jar.
8>> No reason to say our fav : "hum hain..." ;-)

crap aside,
SAALE HANDWASH KO KYON LOCK KAR KE GAYA HARAMI??
jaldi vaapas aa...i hate using soap!
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BIODIESEL...HIC!

2007-01-28T23:58:00.000+05:30

I got to learn something today.
Something significant.
You hear people talk about working for hours and feeling they could have worked more. Working because work does not feel like its namesake. I always had this standard thought for such people: go to hell.
Today changed that perception.
Working on this presentation for a competition at venkatshwara (I hate the term 'venky'..dont know why, but somehow reminds me of an oily burger), i did not realize how time passed. Its about midnight, and though i am a bit fed up with it, the overall process has been wonderful.
Considering the lack of time (and sleep) that i'm facing right now, more on this to follow.
Goodnight world.

Happy independence..oops..republic day

2007-01-26T03:20:00.000+05:30

Its 12:07. The phone oscillates madly.
"hey ppl! Its d republic day! v'r indianz! lets celebrate it! I'm proud to be an indian! Jai hind!!"
?
Whoa. Take it easy brother. Patriotism generally finds an outlet only on these selective days when we get a day off; and when the day off is compounded with a hugely extended weekend, patriotism overflows. But considering that neither am i particularly patriotic nor glad that there is another day off, such messages do one vital thing - piss me off.
When i say i am not patriotic, i also say that i dont hate my country either. Just that the notions of 'motherland' and 'swades' dont go down well with me. And i'm very sure i would have been equally non-patriotic--if i may use the term--had i been born in some other country. When you say you love your country, what do you mean? Do you love that one page map in the atlas? or do you love the boundaries that require a passport to cross? Our forefathers were patriotic. They loved their motherland. For a typical person living in, say, Karnataka before the partition patriotism would mean the love for India.
After partition, however, the love is restricted to the territory left behind by our holy neighbours. Keep dividing; keep reallocating the territory..remove Haryana..Punjab..Uttaranchal..and with each successive division the area being 'loved' would keep diminishing. Hail the patriot who loves his motherland! only that his mother may have been born in a land that now belongs to someone else..but hail the patriot nevertheless! for he's the one warrior..who'll love the motherland till he dies..however so you may divide it...keep dividing..and you reach till his city..his colony..his block..his road..his house..his room..his...okay; lets spare the gory details..so come on...shout it out loud..HAIL THE PATRIOT..FOR HE'S THE WARRIOR...HE LOVES HIS MOTHERLAND..

P.S. : Ever heard of Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam? Try it out brother. Helps. And you dont need to send out SMSes celebrating it too.

There i go again..

2007-01-26T02:59:00.000+05:30

If contemplating earned something, i'd outdo Bill Gates.
ACT!
All i've been doing is think, think and think some more.
Contemplating writing stuff.
And there has been so much. The pilani trip..the hangover..shifting to the hostel..histrionica..14-odd dramatics competitions..8 wins..all those fights with Ankur on whether the hindi stage or the street play is doing better..joining the debating society..vacations followed by the internal examinations to name a few.
And i'v contemplated writing about all of these.
Act.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kay sera sera...

2006-10-12T08:33:00.001+05:30

confusion reigns...
first year of my college...and going pretty much the way i had hoped it would..but then; why is this nagging anixety that haunts me every single moment? my meter's running low, and i'v been moving everywhere...spreading out my wings, trying everything..but i'm still lost in thought...rdb's line "ek pair past main, ek pair future main..isiliye hum aj pe m**t rahe hain" seems to sum me up....there's nothing amiss...maybe i'm just looking for reasons to be gloomy...the only problem, and that is definitely a big one, is that i am not being able to segregate the source of my dilemma...
probably..mind you; probably , it is my future that's bugging me.
not that i'm unsure of my capabilities.
i know i can work towards a goal; and if i'm sincere, i know i'll get it like hell..come what may..
but the only problem remains identifying the bloody goddamned goal!
what is it that i want to do after college?
what is the career that i want to take up?
what is it that i ultimately want to do in life?
discussing all these with shagun at length, i realized how entrapped i am.
i have no clue whatsoever to any of these questions.
yeah; ultimately, all that iwant from life is respect, money and some time to live my life.
civil services give me all of these.
but then...after being in the annals of a fast pased life, would i be ready for the 9 to 5 dull proceedings of the government office? would i be maximising my capabilities? wouldnt i just rot being a sarkari babu?
then there is the corporate sector...yeah; my pockets would bulge...but whats the fun in having a chauffeur picking you up from home early in the morning, dropping you in your cabin where you maddeningly keep glaring at your workstation all day long, till your beloved chauffeur drops you back to your bed?
business is not meant for me anyways...

i guess the only problem is that i havent been ableto identify my passion till now.
all i want is a job which i want to do..so that i'd never have to work...
but then...
what is it?

Hmmmm....

2006-10-10T10:32:00.000+05:30

Have been inactive for quite sometime now.
With good reason.
Life has been sinusoidally fluctuating bang since my last post.
Hitting the peak, then the speedbreaker, then cloud number nine followed by a crash and now finally settling down on seventh heaven.
Hope there's nothing extreme in store for me atleast for a couple of months now. Have had more than enough of my share in the past half a month.
One hell of a ride it's been..and now that the ride is going smooth, i have no qualms saying that i'm loving it.
************************************************************************************
Shit.
Sums it up.
Not done guys.
Pilani this, pilani that.
And now even after being selected, we'r not going.
"We'll go to kanpur"
To put it in their words, we dont want to take 'shit' to pilani.
Okay; so whatever we'v done since july is 'shit'. stinking 'shit' i would say.
Thanks.
************************************************************************************
Adi was in India for a week, recuperating from the singapore syndrome owing to his midsem breaks.
So...adi ( henceforth : chink ) comes to India and behaves as if he has been living in singapore all his life.
Saale harami; dilli se gaye do mahine hue nahin..aur vapas laute chinki banke...
As soon as bhaisab landed, his bakra beard was shaved off by uncle.
Went for a night stay at his place two days before he was to leave...and he told me he had a lab report to complete before he leaves, else he'd be screwed.
Next day, he accompanied me to my college. We, along with my college friends, went to watch woh lamhe. Chink had to leave asap after that because he needed to complete his lab report,else he'd be screwed..
Next night, he left.
We were chatting after chink had got back to singapore, he told me:
I COMPLETED MY LAB REPORT AND LEFT IT IN INDIA. I'M SCREWED.
way to go; mr. screwed chink.
***********************************************************************************
Some moments touch you.
Others leave you flabbergasted.
Yet others make you feel sorry.
Then there are some which have the charisma of doing all of these in one go.
Waiting for someone outside the cp keventers, i saw this guy : the average Indian beggar. Soi didnt pay any special heed to him. As i was done with my butterscotch milk, i decided to move to the place where i was supposed to meet my friend. That was when he said 'bhaisab...'
Being used to it, i didnt pay any attention.
'bhaisab...'
I kept walking.
'What the hell do you think of yourself? Does everyone in Delhi look at people's clothes and then talk?'
Flabbergastation redefined.
I looked at him, and he continued : "brother..oh sorry; shouldn't have called you brother...look; dont misunderstand me...i am from a village near Ranchi, and had come to Delhi for a job. I was hit by a car right here in CP three days back. When i came to my senses, i was lying in Ram manohar lohia hospital..but those guys gave me only basic mediactio and left me as i had nothing to pay them with...i cant contact my home because there is no telephone in my village...dont misunderstand me; i want no money...if only you could uy me some food...'
took him to a nearby dhaba kind of place and bought him a thali. i wanted to leave, because i could stand it no more. As i started walking back, all he said was "thanks brother..oh sorry..shouldnt have called you brother..."
Did i do something great? Malum nahi.
But then..had he not been speaking english, would i have believed him? leave alone believing..would i even have looked at him?
And to say...hindi is my mothertongue.
Bloody hell.
************************************************************************************

O HA!

2006-09-16T20:39:00.000+05:30

We're there.
After all that suntan, stinking after being soaked in sweat, daily roadrolling by parents...its showtime.
First dramatics competition tomorrow at IP college.
And i have an intution something would be going our way.
It felt good after we performed on Saturday...and that was about the only time we were praised by our seniors. After a general performance today, our confidence levels are pretty okay...but lets see what happens tomorrow.
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Of fever, rain and Sachin's hundred in vain...

2006-09-14T21:14:00.000+05:30

This morning when i woke up, i discovered the hazards of overworking your usually inactive brain too much: a ripping headache yesterday, followed by a fever.
But the morning itself wasnt too bad.
Yesterday's altercation with dad led to him declaring me, for the umpteenth time after my joining dramsoc, a 'good for nothing nautankibaz' who doesnt know what to do with his life. That had left me with literal mixed feelings; a mixture which was a concoction of only unwanted emotions: anger, regret of not having gone away from delhi and the like.
So much so that i told the dramsoc seniors i would be leaving the society after the iit competition.
And would sit at home doing whatever my dad tells me to.
(By this time, my head had started splitting due to all my brainstorming and plans which all led to one conclusion: leaving delhi next year)
Even after Sahil and Latika discussed the pros and cons of leaving the society, i still couldnt somehow tell them properly that i did not want to leave the society; i had to leave it.
The time i reached home (the intense sun in which we practised had expanded the split in my head by then) i told mom that i was leaving the society.
All that i remember after that is a blur...taking a saridon and twisting from this position to that all evening; after sleeping restlessly at aroundnine or something... i woke up in the morning and found that it felt awkward.
It was fever.
But then; somebody said that everything happens for a reason.
He was true.
Mom must have told dad about my leaving the society, so the first thing he asked upon seeing me was why hadnt i gone for the practises (and in a loving tone, too...i guess nobody at home knew i was unwell coz i hadnt spoken to anyone since the last evening) and even offered to drop me till the metro station.
A smile later, i knew it was alright.
I wasnt leaving either dramsoc ,or delhi, afterall.

(P.S. :The only thing to come out of all this is that i realize dramsoc is a part of me now; the decision of leaving it had felt awfully disturbing...something which i wasnt accepting till some days before, and dramsoc used to be just a pass time.)

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It has been two years since i watched a complete cricket match. (Those two years have been the most unproductive time of my life...all due to some weird notions of my coaching centre teachers that you need to study more than 24 hours a day (?) to make it to iit; i ended up being glued to books 24*7, wthout ever taking in a word. i had books in my hand, on my lap, nose, head : wherever you can contemplate..so much so that parishek often wondered aloud if i had a book stand installed in the loo as well..but thats a different story; to be blogged some other day).
So i settled peacefully to watch the indo-west indies encounter.
Sachin, my childhood favourite, began cautiously and was dropped meekly by the keeper when on 5. Tendulkar helped himself to another 136, carrying his bat in an ODI for just the second time. But it was not smooth sailing all along for him, who sported a blue brace on his left elbow as a reminder of the injury that has dogged him in the recent past. The manner in which he began - and it would be fair to describe it as edgy - gave plenty of hope to the West Indian attack. After the dropped catch Tendulkar managed to get a grip, playing two crisp straight drives that cannoned into the stumps at the non-striker's end. A trademark whip through midwicket for four settled the nerves, and India were on their way.
Dravid was able to master the variable bounce, master that he is.
Sachin capitalised fully; but all went in wain due to messrs Duckworth and Louis...After the pounding rains, WI was declared winner only after 20 overs of their innings,following the D-L rule.
My hopes of watching an entire cricket match were drowned too.
Nevermind; tendya.
Congrats for the scintillating 40th ton.
Go kill the aussies!

sojourns of an overworked mind...

2006-09-13T21:08:00.001+05:30

Ah...life!
When would i be able to understand you; my beloved life?
One moment, you seem so glorious...so charming...so wonderful...
and only the next , there seems to be no reason for you to exist.
Who is it, actually, inhabiting this fickel frame of mine that you call a body?
Okay. I have a name.
But that could so easily have been something else.
Then, what is my identity? A mere name definitely couldnt describe this assortment of a gazzilion cells which swing, throb, dance, multiply...all in one moment...
What is more confusing, however, is how to go about finding that identity of mine.
People say that the whole point of living is finding that one calling in life.
But how do you segregate the call; or worse still; what if you feel that except going with the flow and following the holy laissez-faire, there is nothing much you can do and the call may never come?
The thought of never being able to find the 'calling' scares me; terrorises me.
I may be a millionaire. or a terrosist. or a musician. or a fortune-500 ceo.
But who the bloody hell am i?
This day, here i am; sitting in this home of mine in palam vihar, guragon, haryana, india, asia, the earth, the milky way, the universe, the cosmos.
Holy shit.
What if i was to be thrown deep into the annals of this cosmos; far from my security..my friends..my family..? what reason would the souls who linger after me have the reason to remember that a-somebody-by-that-certain-name existed?
What is the point of just existing?
Leave out the world; this country itself churns out lakhs of graduates, and even more illiterates of the same age, every year.
What is it that separates me from them?
I may sound paranoid; i definitely dont mind being one if it makes me understand my purpose in this matrix you call the world.
I know i am very lucky: a family that loves me more than themselves; friends who i know would go out of their ways for me, a stamp of being an alumnus of the best school in India, and now being a student of the best commerce college there is in asia.Touchwood.
But still there is this huge void. This confusion. This complexity...of not being able to find that one reason for my being here...
Existing is one thing; living is quite another.
And believe me; i will somehow find out what it is;l someday...somehow...

2006-09-12T21:18:00.000+05:30

I am...
a dash.

There are days when i am a 386 in a P4 world.
And then there are days i feel like the ultimate system crash could do me some good.
Today was none of them; and i ended up being a particularly humble P1.

Woke up.
DTC.
Metro.
College.
Dramsoc practisec.
Metro.
DTC.
Blog.
Going to sleep.

Jealous ; arent you?

(Actually; i am working on a story..will post is as soon as i can.)

Nice one; Sir

2006-09-11T20:36:00.000+05:30

I didnt sleep properly the night before.
I didnt shave.
I didnt have my breakfast.
After i had given all the bloody damns i could for the Eco test, i still found myself today morning in the college with 2 hours and as many chapters still to go..so i decided to give it a shot and went to the...ahem...library to study.
30 minutes...1 chapter.
15 minutes to go...
" The test is cancelled"

?

Bloody hell.
Achcha kata, Mr. Jha.
Not that i give a damn; but still, i know it wont hurt now that i've studied.
Nice one, sir.

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Sometimes as a kid...
I used to care where i threw my candy wrappers.
I used to cry when i saw poor people beg.
It took nothing to make me smile.
It took only a simple ice-cream to make my day.
A ten-rupee note made me satisfied.
A bird in the sky made me want to soar.
And above all...
No girl minded hugging me!
Why the hell do people grow up?

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

I dont know who was involved in the malegaon blasts.
Neither do i want to know.
If you can , just oblige me by telling one point behind all this banging stuff.
Lets blow up the entire cosmos; whatsay, mate?
Maybe then your allah, or whoever it is you worship, would be happy.
And why not.
He would then have a chance to make up an entirely new breed; which, hopefully,would not be so basically faulty.

God wants spiritual fruits; not religious nuts.

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To give or not to give...

2006-09-09T20:28:00.000+05:30

What is it that makes this boy have no fear?
Simple enough : He knows he is hopeless.
Study or not; there is no possible way you could scrape your way through thirteen deadly chapters of economics in two-and-a-half days, made moreso deadly by the aura of the person-in-charge.
So why give a damn.
Anyways, i had been trying my best to give a damn until a short while before when i had battled through three and a half chapters of Mankiw. At that fateful moment, gaurav came and made me an offer i couldn't refuse (dont ponder; yeah, that one's plagiarised from the godfather..ukhad lo jo ukhandna hai...) : Lets go have seekh kabab.
After that delicious bit, i couldnt convince myself to give a damn. So here i am not giving a damn. But i know all my classmates are busy this very moment giving damns. So why dont i give a damn too? For i know that with dramsoc practises tomorrow morning, there's no way i can complete the course before the hanging on monday. Ek khun ki saza bhi fansi, teen khun ki saza bhi faansi..aur sadhe nau khoon ki saza bhi faansi....so probably i'll settle for the last option and avoid giving a damn.

Period.

Guys, that IS my very own picture on orkut.
For the uninitiated, i would ike to tell you that those hair took about eight months of agricultural mastery and ferocious battles with every single soul of my abode (who suggest i look like a juvenile prison dropout with this hairstyle and have valued the hair at rs. 5,000 + an upgrade on my pc on the last count), and trust me; even if i look like a bear, those hair are going nowhere in a hurry.
So stop sending me those "is that ur pic" scraps.

I guess i must start giving a damn now.
I would rather be a bear with a pass mark rather than a bear with an egg.

Damn you.

Bhangi begins blabbering

2006-09-08T21:17:00.000+05:30

You can't make someone else's choices. You shouldn't let someone else make yours.
-Colin Powell
Sure; dude.
But if the problem is being trapped inside a confused soul, at times it may not be helped.
Smile called up today (a particularly good friend of mine from a time which seems like a previous incarnation) and though you can trust him to be one guy least interested in influencing others and forcing his opinions on them, our conversation still converged to the sole topic that seems to have been clouding my life all these months : Should i have joined SRCC , or should i have gone to thapar or a lesser known nit.
I really dont know; mate. But one thing is for sure: life has never been better.
Maybe this feels like heaven just because i recently had an all expenses paid trip to hell.
Maybe its a choice that destiny has led me to.
Maybe I get screwed up big time.
So be it.
All I know is that I'm Loving It.
And i'm staying.

Period.

DUSU and College elections took place today. That means a lot to me:
1) No more queued up guys outside the metro station trying to bury me in nsui/abvp pamphlets.
2) No more agenda stories ;some of them even stooping so low so as to suggest : "I personally know the elevate manager and can get you discounts there // we'll give you a fun filled goa trip// we'll bring you mallika sherawat (third is the only one that i cooked up; but then, who knows...WE may use it next year!)
3) NO MORE UTSAV TELLING ME WHOM TO VOTE FOR!!

Pozi won by a narrow margin (337 as against 328 of Vignesh) and that reiterates the fact that every single vote counts. Apart from that, the day was fun; with the dramsoc practises going going lousily due to 4 of the cast members being absent.
Later, just before the elections results were to be announced, all us dramsocers engaged in doing the only activity we are cumulatively good at: Buckchodi.
Todays feed began with shouts of "JEET GAYA BHAI JEET GAYA..." almost an hour before the results (that nobody else even bothered to look up is another testimony to the mundane lives those non-dramsoc creatures (whatever you call them) live) which was followed by the famous LALLA song ( for whom it was sung, i wont discloseth to thee...for then, who would be beaten up is me...)

Anycase, relating to the start of this post, the only thing I would like to say is...
Past has been okay...
present is wonderful...
who gives a damn about the future!

Start living dudes; twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you did not do than by the ones you did.

//Intoductory post to bhangistories//