Transition.

"Macha, we should always come back here, to our college. So much memories." He blabbered half-drunk. His macha took one look at him, tried to comprehend what he was saying and vomited right onto the plate of pickles which they used as 'touchings'.

Some years into the future, in one of those random IT companies in and around Bangalore, a software professional with a white shirt and red tie would close his laptop, stretch his arms and by chance remember about a plate of pickle and smile. He would then open his water bottle, splash some water onto his face, wipe it off and close his eyes to relax for some time.

The rains drizzled across the Rajpath, washing away all those crow droppings and giving rise to a peculiar, shitty smell perhaps unique to NIT-C.A guy and a girl was sitting on the front steps of the MB lobby, talking with quite wistful looks on their face." Hmm. Not many days more." the guy remarked twiddling his 'kaalan koda' very affectionately. "I know." the girl replied. They kept quiet for some time and gazed at the rain. And, then suddenly the girl murmured "So, sweetie, will this fall apart eventually?'. He brought his gaze back to her. He wasn't very sure, but he replied very confidently." Of course not, I don't want to start all over again." He turned his gaze back onto the rain and to that hot chic walking on the Rajpath sidewalk, without an umbrella.

She was the kind who enjoyed the rain lashing out at her face. As she walked across the Rajpath, she also understood that she was the kind who enjoyed familiarity. It would be difficult to get away after having lived four long years here. She wondered how it did be like at IIM-A.  After enough lazing around, obtaining average grades and having fun, she finally turned things around at the very last moment. She was epitomised as one of those people, who got everything that they wanted out of college life. But as she finally got out of the main gate, she began wondering whether a hectic life filled with corporate work, would actually be a nice ending to the story. She gave a thought about re-thinking her options and trying out something different.

"Let's analyse the options we have in our hand. Get me those files quickly." she said in a firm tone. A nice, plush job managing the HR department of an MNC. It was hectic but she sort of liked it that way. Not to mention the moolah and that nice air conditioned cabin that she got. It was July and the monsoons had set in. Unknown to the inmates of that large company office who were engrossed in their work, the rains had set in.

The rain had subdued. Somewhere near the ELHC pits, a club meeting was going on. A certain secretary was doing his last rites before he stepped down. In front of him were a bunch of second years, to whom he would give up his mantle to and another bunch of uninitiated first years. One more year in college and some crappy placement to look forward to. As the interactions proceeded and his year mates blabbered away to glory, he was mentally sizing up his juniors. He was satisfied. He might not have etched his name in the annals of the club history to be remembered forever. But that was okay. And, what's the big deal in a club, some would ask. That's the one thing he could never properly explain even to his own first year club juniors. But, he was fairly confident, that one day..Somebody called out his name and broke his reverie. As if on a cue, he began his speech in a strict tone. He hated showing too much of sentimentality. It was getting dark. 

It was one of those random night outs to save the day. Some big college or club event the next day. At around 5:00 am, all of them have nearly collapsed. A bunch of people are lying down all over the MB lobby amidst all those mosquitoes, some half asleep and others snoring, on the cold and dirty floor. Suddenly, somebody arrives on a bike with a polythene pack full of puttu and veg stew packets, bought from a thattukada a few miles away. After a lot of shuffling, everybody gets up to gorge on the delicacy. The event will go fine. They have made sure of that. And the food's tasty. Everything's all right with the world.

"I believe I deserve a raise. I have contributed a lot to this project, which has given the company a lot of returns." He said curtly to his project manager." I will give a recommendation in your next appraisal." his project manager replied. He needed the raise badly.  And, he did contribute as he had said. They should give it to him, he thought or else he must jump ship.

And so time will jump in quantums, leaving behind ridiculous memories. Relationships will wane but would linger on. People would give up on those youthful idealisms. Things would move forward and older stories and graffiti would fade to give way to newer ones. We would become less passionate. And life would catch up. But, until then.