Season Two Finale

I wake up in an air-conditioned bedroom with the curtains keeping the sunlight from breaking my tired reverie. It’s my screechy SMS reminder that’s the culprit, with Vodafone dutifully informing me of the latest Telugu ringtones and caller-tunes I can get for fifteen rupees a month. My stomach is still full from last night’s sumptuous dinner- nothing special, but filling all the same. Big B’s off to college, Pa’s not yet back from yet another field trip while Mumma’s long taken her ninety-minute commute to the hospital. It’s just my aunt and her chatter as I stretch out on the sofa with a bowl of idly-sambhar resting on the pillow on my lap, simultaneously renewing my on-off affair with the TV. A now-habitual check of the e-mail takes me to check my grades on the batch’s Google group, and after exchanging a few wall posts with a friend, I vow to break all connections with R for the rest of the day. Needless to say, I was unsuccessful.

This trip home couldn’t have come at a better time. Yes, this academic year saw the indescribable Nihilanth trip to Bombay, a busy yet enjoyable Thomso, four of the best issues of Kshitij that I’ve been a part of, memorable first trips to Gnosiomania in Allahabad and the IIT-Delhi Parliamentary Debate, a fun trip to Rishikesh with the third-years and a path-breaking Cognizance. The fact that I may have missed out on mentioning a few more brilliant memories simply means that there’ve been so many things that could’ve made this year unforgettable. This year, though, has been quite forgettable- academically and personally. The former, for obvious reasons, and an increasing sense of disillusionment regarding my future leaves me in an uncomfortable haze. As for the latter, all the phone manners I’d perfected over years of making and answering calls were thrown out of the window last week in a 21-second call I’ll never forget. I can’t seem to recall what the margin of victory was in our first-ever win in the Delhi debates, but I sure do remember the infinitely long night that followed after this call was made. That, as a relatively insignificant consequence, had robbed me of an entire paragraph in the long year-end post I’d planned earlier. Combine it with the grades that followed later in the week, and the whole post was dead.

***

The last few hours in R were spent at Moh’s. The last hours I’d spend with Lefty, Rapu and Moh in the insti. It wasn’t a glitzy night spent recollecting some of the best moments we’ve spent together, or what we’ll miss. We watched a few episodes of South Park, discussed the IPL and cricket’s pretty boys over dinner in Ganga canteen and rounded off the night with a few episodes of The Big Bang Theory. It was... arbit. Now that I come to think of it, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Maybe a last game of Scrabble would’ve been fun. Even more arbit! The final goodbyes were pretty arbit, too. We did both a lame cool guy handshake and an awkward hug.

And, as I was about to hug Lefty one last time, I whispered into his ear- I guess when it comes to the insti, after tonight, I’ll remain loveless for good.

P.S.- If it means that I’ll have to endure another round of really sentimental farewells, I don’t want to be grand old man in Roorkee, masters! Plus, I guess I’ll have to pay, too. Nooo!

P.P.S.- Pity I missed paying my regards to the rest of the fourth-years. I wouldn’t have hugged NamJham, though- the baster said he isn’t taking a bath till his BTP’s done! Not SriPri, either, of course.

P.P.P.S.- Lefty, I meant every single word of it.