Of big cats and rotting dogs

It’s amazing how sometimes you discover the most amazing things around very late. I discovered Sultans of Swing to be my favourite song after almost a year and a half in R-land, almost four years after I really got into English music. Another such example sits comfortably on a plank, balanced on the chair in front of me. I came to know of Tiger biscuits’ magic only in eleventh grade- at least a decade after it reached the peak of its popularity, not putting down its popularity now. At four bucks a packet, it is almost insanely cheap for a most satisfying snack. I just went by to the canteen to buy five such packs. For a change, after almost a full six months, I went to the cooler to fill a bottle of water, too. I’m finally living in my room. Now, all I need to do is pick up those fat books and start preparing for classes- I’ve been nothing short of atrociously poor this semester, and that isn’t saying much considering how bad my last four-monther was.

 

It’s also amazing that when you discover some amazing things or people at the right time, they don’t seem to last too long. I met Kaptaan only in the latter half of my first year here, and he left, finally, at the end of that eventful year. The friendship, respect, awe, fun and frolic those four months brought are some of my most cherished memories from the insti so far. Awe was the word for Njan Van Kalip and ARK- two of the most complete people I’ve ever met. It’s another even semester- meaning in a little over hundred days from now, many people I’ve bonded so brilliantly with shall be packing their bags for that hubbub that is the world, leaving behind memories I’ll always associate them with...

 

He was the first one who said to me that he actually liked reading my blog- for it was idiosyncrasy personified! He passed on so many legendary tales from his long time here- of people raising the bar high into the sky, of buildings going from zilch to zenith, and of incidents that had shaped what is status quo. He introduced me to corners of the insti I never imagined seeing, and to a plane of thinking I thought existed only in books and sages. Above all, he was great fun to hang out with. And I hope I gave him some useful advice myself. Best part- fellow Man United fan! Ole to that! To quote Douglas Adams with a Haddu touch,so long, ra, and thanks for all the fish!

 

P.S.- CBRI canteen rocks!

Where’s the party? It’s your birthday!

Only a day into the new year, and the blogosphere is abuzz with activity. That’s given enough time for me to ruminate for this very very special post. Of course, it’s another fact that I rarely think for a post!

 

The last post of the last year had an interesting snippet about it- it could be shortened to HHH! That was posted, as you could see, in the wee hours of 31^st December. New Year’s eve it was, and the campus was slowly filling to capacity again. I only woke up at eleven, after wrestling down my alarm clock and giving the other alarm’s snooze button a stern test of its patience. After the essentials, minus the luxury of a bath, I finally went out on my way to the mess, and the sun had decided not to come out of its warm blanket of clouds, and the eddying cold winds continued to tease the mufflers and wind-cheaters. But, unlike most others around, I was in the mood for a stroll, and lazily braved the cold to go to the gaanv (village) for a phone recharge, and to meet up with the masters down there. After an impatient wait in his room, spent rummaging through his table to find friends’ indulgences, old colourful scrapbooks and trying to find a way to untangle three layers of sheets, Lefty, His Wordiness (official winner) and I set out for a walk in the pursuit of Happinezz. Along the way, we gobbled up sweets with glee (me with especial glee as I wasn’t paying!) and I wondered how those two were slimmer when they ate like they did. Later, though, we did find what we went out to seek, and it was in hot sandwiches full of delightfully melted cheese. Our appetites were good for one each only, though, as a long night was to follow for all of us.

 

After that, I headed back to my room, and sat down to greet anyone with a green dot beside their name, while mine remained grey (invisibility rocks!). After an hour of aimless chatting, I heard a DJ start playing in front of the canteen, with crowd favourites like Hat Ja Tao Jat Ja and Maar Suttiya blaring out loud into the rooms around. I could even hear inebriated shouts and laughs as the Matkas danced their way to the toilets, where they puked uncontrollably, as I was to discover later (not sadly, thankfully!). After re-installing that perennial favourite, FIFA08, time was whiled away rediscovering my touch and Joga Bonito. That was till the Perusing Poet knocked on my door, and, soon enough, we were out having dinner. After a long meal, interspersed with passionate arguments on Ghajini and the varying degrees of the word ‘voyeurism’, we got back to our respective rooms.

 

They say what you do first on New Year’s day defines your year- I definitely hope it doesn’t come true, as I welcomed 2009 very solemnly, alone in my room sitting invisible on Gmail. But, apart from the various calls, messages, e-mails, scraps, pokes, and hugs that followed, the bright spot was the fact that January 3 wasn’t too far, and this page would be celebrating a year in existence (putting many others at risk!). As jobless as I am, I spent the last three quarters of an hour looking up bloggiversary posts of those on my blog-list. (Different story that I found two, at most) As clichéd as it may sound, it’s been a roller-coaster ride of a year blog-wise, and as it always is with most wonderful things, I find it very ironic that one of favourite posts (which can be found here), has no comment on it (although it's a very first-yearish post). Shape-shifting my way from characteristically quirky to whining grumbler to grumbling moaner (as Kaka puts it) to an overly long-writing bore, I’ve realised the best way to one’s true self, is through self (not to be confused with a traitorous Homeland Security agent on a TV show). 363 days in the blogosphere, and my blog has brought out 30 ways to blow your head off without suffering from side-effects like lead poisoning. I’ve not gone far as a writer, as I spent dreaming countless number of nights. But, then, life’s like that. And, in a spurt of nostalgia, and as mark of respect to the page that has spilled the beans on almost everything about me, I shall revert to the old name, ‘cause the geek still speaks... or rather types! Cheers!

 

P.S.- Dela, you’re next! (Goldberg style! Ah, I still love brackets!)

 

P.P.S.- I was waiting for only one song through the whole DJ thingy, and I wasn’t to be robbed of that pleasure. Ta ta-na-na-na tandoori nights... tandoori nights! Btw, Emotional Atyachaar is the song to be heard this year!