Moments

It happened during a time when the Spartanz were at war with Kalipz. (Those were the two groups into which we had divided ourselves in first year. Remember the names.) So, the memories are a bit hazy. It might seem that the author is trying to sound his own trumpet. It definitely is but knowing that the readers consider him an annoying idiot he will try to tone it down.

During my time, first year was usually defined by three intra-college fresher fests.

“Sangam”, “Spectrum” and “Debutante”. No. DnD hadn't come up to its present stature yet. And what else is special about first year besides all the work at Tathva and Ragam as well those “friendly” interactions with seniors? Every person worth his salt would be trying to impress somebody. It might range from a particular person to the general public as such. And if everybody were left to their own devices, I do think they would all start “fornicating with abandon.”( Yeah. Trivandrum Lodge was nice, no?) Okay, maybe I am exaggerating a bit. But, still.

Of course, I was no different. Except because maybe I had something going on back home, I had to put a cap on the whole fornicating-with-abandon process. (Not that I did succeed if I attempted. Stupid height issues.) But, then I loved showing off. And then the first intra-college fest came up, grandly titled “Sangam”. Roughly speaking, things I distinctly remember about Sangam would include Paapi's fitting reply to EC's chorus about Mech being equivalent to lowly grass(“pullaane”). Of course, I am not going to tell you what that was. Then I remember Achin doing an act on how to brush his teeth in between some skit, which duly served its purpose of teaching every uncontaminated soul who landed into this college something else as well. I am not going to tell you what that is either.

Skipping all that vague memories and turning the attention onto my hormonal impulse to get into the spotlight, I remember trying to co-ordinate things. That didn't work well. Between Shravan who had a lot of height and some really bass voice and Premettan, who for some unfathomable reason, seemed to be right in the centre of every co-ordination activity there ever was, I remember getting drowned.

So, I thought I did try my hand at some events. I think “True lies” was the first one. 
Screwed it up nicely and returned all dejected. That's when they told me I had got into the second round of the whole Mr and Miss Sangam thingy. The only thing I remember about the second round is running around the entire MB with two shoes tied on my head and secretly shouting “Those assholes.”

And, somehow I scraped through to the final round. Now, I do not want to go through my trials and tribulations and momentary emotions at each stage of the third round. Neither do you, I think. But, I guess I need to state certain important facts and incidents to make you comprehend the point I will elucidate further on.

At around that time, I had a major infliction of inferiority complex and for all the fame and fortune that I wanted, I was damn scared of getting on stage especially if the whole intention was to grill my personality. However, as luck would have it, the first two rounds went okay. Doing a Michael Jackson, teaming up with Anjali to say that alternate uses of buckets include elephant condoms and I was through to the third stage where the luck ended. And the third stage, which was a 'wacky dance' round messed me up properly. I had to redo the whole dance thing because it was that bad. And I didn't do well the second time either.

That's when the whole inferiority complex kicked in and it got accelerated initially during the final interview round, where in all fairness, my competitors pretty much said in as polite a manner as possible “Dude, we think you don't deserve it”. ( They were kinda right too.) And then the judging panel addressed a question to me. I remember the question and how I answered it. That wasn't really important.

It was the moment before. Imagine you are that inexperienced first year, probably trying to make a good first impression and get all popular. Imagine that to top it, you have an inferiority complex way bigger than your size. Imagine that you screwed up after having talked too much and all eyes are trained on you expecting you to blunder. Your head is about to get meddled up. And you are about to have a breakdown in seconds. (I had no clue about the actual situation. But, the scenario was something like this in my own head.)

And for some inexplicable reason, you refuse to give up like right out of one of those motivational books. A bit of  “waashi” maybe. A bit of  “One-for-the-memory”. Of course, I did end up blurting out total shit and did not get the title or the dance ;). But...

Four years down the lane, I am sitting at cubicle No. 2 in a computer lab at KMCET writing this three letter entrance examination. I finish the first part and collapse onto the desk with thoughts ranging from “hopeless” to “Life's ruined. College's ruined.” during the two minute break before the second part and chance upon a scrawling on the desk. “Spartanz”.

Very cinematic. Yeah. But, it launched me into a thought process which culminated in that same moment in Sangam. And then I went for the second part with a war cry. The cinematic and really dramatic style apart, I have no idea whether I will clear that examination with a proper score. I might. I might not.

But, I have learned to recognise that moment and respect it for its sheer awesomeness not only in me but in everyone. And, I have seen it a lot around here in this college(which is partially why I love the crowd here. The other reason being girls around here are reasonably hot. Reasonably, mind you.). That moment when your brain logically argues to you to give up and then on an impulse, you say “No.” irrespective of whether you are screwed anyway. And, that moment, when a couple of good memories give you all the strength in the world.

Dedicated to a junior of mine. ;)

Magna Carta

Yes. I am writing this post solely because I want to hog the limelight by criticising the one publication that is getting compared to 'The Dark Knight'. ;)

So, now that my motives are clear, I will proceed to what I have to say. First of all, kudos. You managed to publish another edition. I never expected you to take this beyond one edition. However, I want you to note down certain points.

1) Never ever praise yourself in an article and that too the main article. We understand that you guys are quite the 'revolutionaries'. You don't need to tell us that about yourselves and that too in the very first page.

2)You displayed an advertisement about Tathva and how there are only eight more days left. And, simultaneously in an article, you raised fingers against the selling of branded T-shirts, which happened during the last edition of the same festival by quoting certain points. Get your facts right. None of the major clothing brands will sponsor specifically for a college unless it's an institution with a lot of brand value. The agreement was signed with one of the subsidiaries who supplied to the major brand and supplied us with the same quality t-shirt albeit with a reduced cost.(Indeed most brands put a high price tag on their tees because of their brand value. That is why they are able to offer 50% reduction when selling off their excess quantities in retail stores). Even otherwise, it's something we do to raise funds for our college festival. So, you could have let it go. And of course, clubs. I am seeing people criticising clubs on the basis of that sole article. And this is addressed more to them than the editors of Magna Carta. It's because of these 'elitist' institutions that a culture has developed inside the college whereby student talent has been encouraged like anything. Yes, they are not perfect. But, they are irreplaceable.

3) In plain words, let's see the effect that you have made right now. You made a lot of people start thinking. And, you have ruffled up some feathers. But, instead of creating a change, I think what you have done through that article about AVC and likewise is make the administration and faculty get even more closed and suspicious. Very frankly speaking, we are past a stage where we can create an upheaval for each and every issue in this college. And, so as students, we need to learn how to manipulate this system to our benefit. We need to learn when to stage a protest, when to go for a signature campaign, when to talk and when to let go. The above mentioned articles will just make it even more difficult to obtain event permissions and conduct interactions with the staff to our benefit. Trust me, not all faculty are trying to eat students alive here. Perhaps, you did understand much better, if you visit any other college in our state, which doesn't have the presence of a political party. (And if it does, God save them.)

4) Your articles highlight the problem very poetically indeed. In fact, some of the articles seems to be more about including complicated words than highlighting any specific issue. But, have you ever suggested a solution? I haven't seen an article which says " So, guys what we need to do is..." All of us complain but it takes some amount of character to try take the bull by its horn. Finding a solution is not easy. Interestingly, there are people who have successfully done it here in the past and made life much better for the rest of the student population.

5)Magna Carta has succeeded in creating a lot of excitement out here. We do get adrenaline kicks from such secretive activities. We do have a certain amount of revolutionary blood in us. But, perhaps that is not what this college needs. It probably needs students who have a definite sense of right and wrong and who are willing to lay down quite a lot for this college. It needs a student community which stands together with a lot of unity and cohesion. Unfortunately, we as students never quite measure upto such ideals.

No, I am not trying to portray the Magna Carta team as villains. They are not.(They would be once the faculty gets hold of the new edition ;) ). But, I think somewhere along the line, they are doing it wrong even though they may have the best interests of the student community at large.

So, that's it folks. Cheers.

S.A.S Paper Plantain Leaves

Once upon a time, there was a kingdom which went by the name Areyeecee, situated amidst Kyaatangal. Legends describe of how the citizens grew green plantains also called 'vaazha'.  Nobody gave them money or anything but they had nothing better to do since those damn laptops hadn't arrived yet. So, they kept growing all these 'vaazhas'. And they got a lot of bananas out of it, which they freely distributed to everybody in Kyaatangal. So, all were happy.

But, as in every good story, all was not well in Areyeecee. One fine morning, two men dressed all in black, arrived with a big book full of so many rules. And, they threw the book around that small kingdom. It spoke of the coming of an age called Yennaitee. It was supposed to herald heroes with pot bellies and money-money-money. And, so they all decided, enough of Areyeecee, we want Yennaitee.

And they got Yennaitee. With the money-money-money, the newly christened Yennaitee-ens with their pot-bellied hero at its head, decided to switch to SAS Paper Plantains. It had a much livelier green colour and was much more cost effective. And they were bigger. Like way bigger. Like ten times bigger. Their trunks were made of glass. And all Yennaitee-ens admired it because it was so big. Nobody knew why it was big and nobody had an opinion on whether it should be big at all but big was a novelty and big meant better than those usual plantains.

And then, they realised it. No bananas. Absolutely no bananas. And, that's when Kyaatangal had enough of it. All those Yennaitee-ens, they exclaimed. Once they ate only puttu, now they eat even grass and sing reggae. Not to mention the fact, they keep watering those SAS Paper plantains for bananas.

This state of affairs continued for sometime, until the angels finally decided that they should write a bigger book on affairs. Much bigger than the one those men in black had brought. They  knew that Yennaite citizens had a fetish for big. And the purpose of the book was to keep the land of Yennaite active all the time.

For example, it created this great big game called 'Musical Chair'. It was so innovative that even the angels fell in love with it and adapted a version for themselves. So did our pot-bellied hero. Even the Almighties above the pot-bellied hero who resided nowhere near Yennaite and had no clue  where Yennaite was situated at all or what Yennaite people did. 'Musical Chair' united them all. It brought forth a special bond between each other

But there were too few chairs and too many Yennaite-ens. So, united as they were, they decided every hundred people who can dance to 'Silsila' together deserved a chair. But there were too many hundred people. And that's when those elimination rounds started. Now, that was quite tough like that damn AyeAyeTeeJee that none of these Yennaite-ens could get. So, they trained with all dedication from their very first year in the kingdom.

And people who didn't like the 'Silsila' of the musical chairs did a lot of different things. Those laptops had arrived. That pwnd one section of the population and pwornd another. Between the aforementioned and fatbook, one third of Yennaite-ens disappeared. The rest turned up at the DeeJai night of course, when Raman Nair from Kunnamangalam and Soman Nair from Attapady came as Dee Jai RaNa and Dee Jai SoNa.

And while Yennaite-ens were busy with all these antics, the angels wondered why bananas never came out of paper plantains. Some started writing papers on it. But, nobody understood why. They decided ultimately that Yennaite-ens had all gone rotten and that it's each angel to angelselves and that it's a dog-eat-dog world. Historical sources contradict each other on which happened first, whether angels changed first or the Yennaite-ens changed. Yennaite-ens always so clever called it the chicken and egg problem and made it a cult phenomena.

Of course, our hero kept increasing his pot belly and burping. He could hardly get up out of that soft couch. He reasoned that Yennaite is a medieval jungle composed of jaguars and leopards, where he would get eaten if he takes so much as a casual stroll.

Between Yennaite-ens who played 'Musical Chair', Laptoped and DeeJayed and the angels & hero who dreamt of dogs-eating-dogs, a kingdom marched ahead to cobwebs with a bit of Shinkari Melam.

Of course, there was that occasional bearded man who kept hugging trees and those bunch of cartoon characters who decided that they would start a revolution and suddenly realised they were short of funds. But, what can you do when the land went to Plantains whose leaves were made of paper?

Into the wild

This road, I do not know where it ends, 

But, it's long and winding and is lined with beautiful oak trees.

Maybe, at its end, I will have a story to tell;

And, so I will walk and wander.

- Anonymous

I hope you would have seen "Into the wild" and would know of Alexander the Supertramp. Not that it makes a difference. I won't ask anybody to pack their bags and go in search of nature. But, there's that one enduring aspect I like about that film. Taking the road not usually taken.

One more year in college and that's when you realise that you have to do something after college.  And, that's for people who would have cleared all the subjects. There would be a million more wondering whether they would pass college at all.

 People would eventually get a degree, of course. But, before that, we would all have moments when we are alone and brooding in front of our laptops or lying on our beds casually swatting mosquitoes and then our thoughts would go to what we actually want to do with our life. And it's not certain, whether society programmed us this way but most of us would think along the same lines. Our mind would draw a huge blank. " Aah IT job" (bangalore..pubs..disco)  "Allel Em-Bee-Yay..mwane" (coat and suit, hot chic PA, bundles of cash) " wattabt IAS?" ( Shaking the back of your hair like Mammootty does in 'The King'). "GATE thanne"( I Engineer, no. If core no, then waat?) "Atho gelf??"(Sheikh and oil).

And after a bit of hectic thought process, we would just smack our head onto the pillow or the table and exclaim."Feck." I have not seen many people go beyond that around here. Very honestly, I myself am a victim to this phenomenon. So, I have no right to go yabba-yabba . But, going yabba-yabba makes me feel much better. And so, here goes.

What causes such an insane rush into the above mentioned career paths, right when college is about to get over?Interestingly, I believe that most students in our college and other colleges would have experienced something called the continuity factor. What is the continuity factor? The belief that we should immediately know what to do, right after our undergraduate study ends. What contributes to the continuity factor? Those pricks called relatives, those annoying neighbours, the nosey parkers in our society and our own insecurities.

Relative : degree kittiya?
The dude : Yes
Relative : Joli kittiya?
The dude: No
Relative: Oh higher studies aa?
The dude: Er yeah...deciding on that.
Relative : Don't worry, you'll get something soon.
Relative's thought process : *Useless muffan * *Useless muffan * *Useless muffan*

And to add to this, we have our own insecurities to deal with. The sight of all those people who were our kith and kin for four years getting well-paid, decent jobs and settling in is not a pretty sight to see, especially if you don't have something in your own kitty.

But, let's take this from a different perspective(put in a bit of idealism, yeah.). We do have one life to live.(Since none of us are sure about 'after death scenarios') No. This is not a declaration that you should hence party for the rest of your life. None of us have rich relatives with cardiac problems. But, seeing that we do have only one life, we could take a break when we feel that things are moving too fast and we are getting swept off in the general uproar surrounding placements and higher education. Say, like a time-out in a basketball game, usually taken when the players are at an emotional and mental low.

And, then what? Plug your ears to the society and your own bloodline, of course. That did be highly necessary. Tell them that you are preparing for those three-letter-four-letter entrance examinations or make up some other excuse. It would give you some reprieve. And, then try out new things.(Of course, you need to convince everybody that these would ultimately count to those examinations).

We have examples of seniors in our college going for 'Teach for India'. I do not recommend it to everybody, of course. I don't think its as fun as those photos suggest. Rather it requires a certain kind of passion and the patience to work everyday  without getting too much wage. (But, I guess you do get a certain kind of happiness and pride doing something like that.)

Perhaps you can start an entrepreneurial venture with those close pals of yours and do something that you would like to continue with, for the rest of your life. What about those little hobbies of yours? Photography, writing, sketching and those gazillion other stuffs out there. Do you have it in you to take it all the way?You might as well give it a try. You wouldn't want to regret not trying it out afterwards. Do you like travelling? Okay. Get a random job, save some money and then do it. You could even write a travelogue. Remember that bearded guy aka 'Sanchari'.

"And, then what?" Yeap. I knew you did ask that. You always do have to rupture my dreamy thoughts. That aside, I know why are you asking that. Well, if your venture ended up in a failure, you can still opt for those conventional paths. It's my belief that most universities outside of our country and indeed the top management institutes as well as a lot of other institutes here offering post graduation, wouldn't perceive you  negatively for wasting a year or two as long as you can explain to them what you did, give them specific reasons and tell them what you learned out of it. That's considered as initiative.

A secure and stable life?  Isn't it a tad bit over-rated? It's my belief that at the end of your life, it's not exactly the amount of money you made that counts(as in you don't need to make a lump of it) but it's those memories  that count. And memories mean that you did shitty things which had hilarious consequences and yet you stuck to your guns and beliefs. If so, wasting a year or two, to actually search for something you would like to do eventually or doing some crazy stuff which makes a certain kind of logical sense, isn't a waste at all.

The right path for you probably is not the one which everybody takes. That's the secure path. At the end of this article, if you are indeed a cynic like most of us, you would smile and close this blog. But, I hope you have a bit of that X-factor in you and I hope this thought that I have raised would churn and boil inside your head when you go for your next placement or your next three-letter-four-letter entrance examination.

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.  

Pillars and Stones

An excerpt from an old and incomplete article of mine.

She was about 70 years old.There was that serene look on her face, which came with old age.She was crossing the street when that over speeding bike hit her.As she lay on the road breathing heavily, with grave injuries, people flocked together.They murmured to each other.Vehicles stopped and families prayed for her from the cozy insides of their car. And, she still lay on the road.It finally took a bunch of people, the 'good Samaritans', to 'act' and dump her body inside the nearest car. The driver was, of course, totally unwilling to take her but had to, amidst all the shouting.Some time later, she died, even though the nearest hospital was barely minutes away.

As scores of steeled skyscrapers encroach into the once pristine land, we are losing something else besides the greenery. Our humanity. Welcome to a terrifying world, where people do not give a damn, about what happens to others or if they do, they did rather wish them luck from a distance.

Human beings are naturally programmed to react to an external stimulus in two different ways.Fight or Flight.As our society evolves with time,the response has become skewed towards the latter.We run away and we run fast.We run away from giving help and from reacting against what we consider wrong because we fear a backlash.The vast majority of us stand by.We would prefer to be a concerned onlooker, the quintessential walking-talking stone.

The Road to Revolution

This winter, I returned a bit early to college. I love returning to college early. The place is empty and not swarming as usual with humanity obsessed with their daily, frenetic lives. It was around evening, the part which un-original poets usually call dusk. I was taking that casual stroll through Rajpath, which was littered with dry, fallen leaves. Somewhere near the main entrance gate, I saw a rusted, old REC board. Among those pristine old buildings, which had so many legends etched on it, a bunch of glassed and steel rod structures had grown up. I closed my eyes.

I opened it up to the loud sounds of the open air Dee Jay night. The loud thumps and booms. The sexes trying to hit on each other. And, that familiar smell of booze. The loudness of laughter. Of course, there's the lot of them who are too confused to understand what's going on. The countdown to New Year. The unison of the voices. Three. Two. One. A lone rocket launches itself into infinity and bursts into a supernova.

The sudden light startles me. It’s from my laptop, warning me that the battery charge is nearly over. I wake up from my drunken stupor and plug the charger. The weird music plays on. It’s difficult to turn off something when your emotions and lightness of mood depend on it. I snuggle back into the bed. Sleep does not come that easily. Those damn mosquitoes. And my thoughts drift off. Revolution. And my eyelids begin to droop. Raised fists.

“Revolution..” he screams. “That’s what this college needs.” The audience, a bunch of first years, look mesmerised as usual. Politics anywhere usually has two things in common. Unkempt promises and a dumb audience. And of course, there’s that young guy, who falls in love with Che and Neruda. He usually has a stubble on his chins. But, he’s pretty much missing around here. The screaming, I suspect, has more to do with lust than ideologies. Since, it converts itself into shaded bottles with the more experienced audience. A pile of red bricks lie untouched near the orator. Somebody should probably hurtle one of them onto his face. Get a taste of the real red, he should.

His face falls as he glances at his examination scores. But, only briefly. I was barely able to notice it. He hid it quickly with his usual burst of laughter. But, when class hours got over, I could see him looking at a distance from the top floor of the department building and contemplating his future. Interestingly, he avoided looking down.

Down below, one of those Yen-Are-Aye girls is seen giggling with that mallu dude near the coffee shop. Damn. She’s hot. Long, dandy legs. She seems to be cursing this college. The guy agrees. Even I do. We certainly do not know how to live a good life and have a good time. Too much of academics or too much of loyalty to college tends to mess up a lot of people. I walk down to the shop and approach the mallu dude. Yo, Dawwg. Gimme that mugga coffee. Effing thirsty. The Yen-Are-Aye chic merely raises an eyebrow at my dramatics. Damn.

The midnight coffee around here is steaming and romantic. I have always loved it. Neskapi for the benefit of my friend, who says “nee dude alla. Vwerum thara malayali.” After some deliberation into the matter, I decide that I agree with him. A midnight walk coupled with the coffee is very sexy. And so here I am, wandering around the college. Much of the fallen leaves have been swept off.

People are being swept off their feet. Not with joy, though. Yes! Mob fights. A left hooker onto the jaw. A right hooker onto the...er…okay…that would really hurt. “What are they fighting over? “ I venture to ask. “Eda, injustice against our countrymen. We have the right to equality against the treachery of bourgeoisie”. Seems fair enough. “He wants to become this thing. But, if we put in this guy, we thought it would be acceptable to them. Since, we don’t want the other guy. But, then apparently not. A fight started. I am trying to derive mental equations to solve this conundrum.” Chanakya mutters behind the enemy lines. That is also pretty fair. And, I walk away from the crowd.

Central Computer Centre ahead. Damn. Am I seeing what I am seeing? Revolution-Screamer buttoned up in formals and waiting in a queue. Wonder whether he can work up his magic yet again? The queue seems pretty much unending. The ones who have finished with their interviews are walking out. Some of them seem cheery. Others have a bitter, wistful look.

I turn back to look at those gigantic gates. It’s the last day of my college life. I thought I did fast forward. I cannot do it in real life, of course. But, I can around here in this piece of writing. And as expected, I see gigantic black gates.Emptiness. For a moment, I panic. And then, it sets in. Emotions and memories. It’s fall again. The place is empty. They have all gone. It’s strewn with leaves from the fall. Dejavu. A scrawny first year kid looking in awe at that majestic path ahead, culminating in the centre circle. I will myself back into my fictitious future. And, I walk away with a small suitcase trolley.