And Pigs Could Fly!

As is evident from the state of this blog, I am not much of a writer. But just as every kid is allowed to dream of being a Sachin someday, every adult is allowed to think he can collaborate with MS Word to cook up a semblance of a novel someday. After 3 failed attempts, I had given up but a colleague in office suddenly sparked the ambition to give this another try.
Dont worry, the spark has gone now - it went within 20 minutes of it coming! So here I am blogging again as a much cheaper substitute of that grand ambition of penning a novel.

Below is a list of stories i attempted to write, huffed and puffed my way to various degrees of what you would only remotely call a "START", before LAZINESS reared up its ugly head and I went back to chasing money, and women (mind you, thats pretty steep hardwork too!):p

The Revolt
This was my first effort at writing a novel and this was when I was around 12. It was supposed to be set in the 2nd World War in a tiny inconsequential nation near the Czech Republic and it was a story of how the army, the press and the government come together to smartly bring the Nazis down on their knees and remain uncaptured throughout the World War. All the names – of places, people and newspapers were researched from the Encyclopaedia Britannica so that they sounded authentically European and exotic and powerful. So the protagonist was a loafer disowned by his parents and he goes on to lead the resistance. The heroine is the daughter of the newspaper baron of the country. It had all the makings of an angry, powerful, multi-starrer blockbuster with outrageous set pieces involving deceit and guerrilla strategies to out-think the evil Germans. I was going to describe the most expensive set ever made as the central parliament of the country with Bernini and a few other sculptors of his time coming together to construct the damn thing. (the rest of the sculptors’ names I don’t even remember!)

The Final Resolution
Satan and God are both organised sector companies with billion dollar donations and massive investments in global stock markets. Good Corp employs dead people to dish out scripts for the new borns who are born once their script is ready on how their life will turn out. Evil Corp. guys are quite restless as they have to try and disrupt these scripts and they aren’t doing too well. Their best chance is now as they have access to 5 ripe young minds who have been destined to greatness by the Good Corp guys and now the Evil guys plan to fuck around with their brains and gain control over the 5 most powerful countries in the world. Funnily, these 5 guys belong to the same country, the same state, the same city and the same college. Whats more, they are the Top 5 of their college festival happening in August this year (get the drift?? :p)

The burden to save the world rested on these young delicate shoulders!
The one on the extreme right eventually slays the Satan! \m/

The climax happens in the college festival as after becoming Heads of States when they grow up and realising that they have been manipulated into evil by the Satan, they turn back time to destroy Satan once and for all on the night it all started – The War of DJs night at this festival of theirs when they went to the roof of their college and Satan had struck. :P

WCE – World Cricketing Entertainment
A fictional saga on how every cricket match ever played is fixed and how the players, the betting industry, the governing bodies, the businessmen and governments use the game to make money and dupe the public until a cherubic curly haired kid comes along with a mickey mouse voice and a killer straight drive and changes the way cricket should be played

Hehehe.. if you are still here after reading all that, here is a list of stories I would want to write someday:

A musical (or a poetrical?) of a bollywood superstar who is doing his last movie and in the course of it is driven to murder, rape and suicide

An Alternative History of Islam – want to change some key moments in history and see how Islam would turn out in today’s world

A biography of a Media Mogul of modern times – hopefully, an autobiography :p

A story where Delhi and Bombay play lead roles – I am willing to tweak the story in any way just so that these 2 get the starring role and I can write pages and pages about them. You don’t care about the script so much if Aamir and SRK are signed on now, do you? :p

A children’s story set in the Dadar railway station – how one night an old man comes and gives these street urchins a set of clues that they chase all night throughout the station – its toilets, platforms, stores, trains and tracks - at the end of which they stand to get a treasure – only, the treasure is something they hadn’t imagined.

And one last thing, I want to write a teeny-bopper, bubble-gum love story – dunno what will be the hook, the tweak, the angle which will make it different but really want to write one someday :p

Random Songs I Like - Kajra Re

So the item song checklist would read something like this


• At least one big star (preferably female)

• Expensive set (read – garish)

• Female performer in skimpy clothes (enough to get it past the censors, that’s all)

• Remix-able (Kind of for the Long Tail to kick in)

• At least one signature dance step – to be easily copied by the most awful dancers in nightclubs

• One quirky line in the song which becomes a part of the lingo for that year

And Kajra Re from Bunty aur Babli had all of these

• It had not 1, not 2 but 3 huge stars.

• The set was that of one of Delhi’s most garish maikhanas- full Yashraj style

• Aishwarya’s Neeta Lulla choli was the deepest cut choli she had ever worn till that movie – something Neeta Lulla informed everyone who cared to listen

• Clap on left, clap on right, appreciate the beauty, appreciate the eyes (the weight of the body shifting from one foot to the other at every line)

• Aankhen bhi kamaal karti hain, Personal se sawaal karti hain

And yet, Kajra Re was more than all this. It, in fact, was more than just an item song.

And the hero of the song wasn’t on screen – he was the bespectacled man with the magical pen – Mr. Gulzar.

It is very difficult for old men to remain relevant to the changing times. Ask my dad – he has given up talking and started listening more to his sons, lest he say something unacceptable! If you are an artist, the pressure is even more intense. A lyricist trained in the highest traditions of Ghalib and a contemporary of maestros like Khayyam and Burman has to now suddenly compose music for bandits like Anu Malik and Pritam. The language has changed and it is to Gulzar’s credit that he remains as relevant today to me as he was to my mom in her time.

So what makes Kajra Re click?

The fact that the song retains the melody, the poetry and the mischievous interplay between the two. Gulzar injects the song with equal amount of Urdu and colloquial Hindi for it to remain both – poetic and hummable. This song is as much for mad dancing at the nightclub as it is for a Sunday afternoon hearing to appreciate the thought, the intrinsic wordplay.

There is no doubt in my mind that Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy are exceptional music directors – that I think one of them dosed off or didn’t turn up while composing music for Housefull, Hey Baby, et al is a fair assumption. Dil Chahta Hai, Lakshya, Taare Zameen Par, Rock On, Wake Up Sid stand testimony to the fact. Bunty aur Babli’s music was absolutely in sync with the language of the film - the look, the style and the characters. It is difficult to create a Mujra which sounds good to people of all generations – and this one does!

The selection of Alisha Chinai is what Geoff Boycott would call an inspired selection. The woman has done pop and disco with great aplomb but this song took her to a new level. I can’t imagine a Sunidhi Chauhan/ Shreya Ghoshal/Kavitha Krishanmurthy doing this song even half the justice it deserves.

And this brings us to the main reason why this song works – Aishwarya Rai. The woman in my opinion has done nothing of note before or after this song in her career. But in this song – OMFG – I was sitting in the first row of Gaiety and I kid you not, I have never felt so much in love with a human figure on screen ever! She was absolutely apsara-like in her movements, the kalgi worn sideways on the forehead made her look like the seductress Indian men must have dreamt about in the Mughal times. Her body as if carved out of stone. When the line “Meri angdai na toote tu aaja” used to be repeated the second time she would turn around and show her back and then she would, in one simple stroke, take all her hair in front revealing the beautiful back that im sure so many beauticians would have worked so hard to achieve. And she did things with her eyes in this song that would have made an “A” certification justifiable. When she would carry the lamp and take those graceful strides lifting her ghagra, I rose with every stride she took. And the kohl-rimmed eyes – the feature this song is an ode to – she has blue eyes, man! And yet the kohl just makes them so much more beautiful! It’s the sort of stuff Indian cinema is made of and without which we would be a very morose people.

And still, this song was also about a city of old – a Delhi my dad talks about, a Delhi I haven’t seen enough, a Delhi that Rakeysh Mehra wasn’t able to capture in an entire movie but Gulzar did in a matter of few lines.

Tujhse milna purani Dilli mein,

Chhod Aaye nishani Dilli mein

Ballimaran se daribe talak,

Teri-meri kahani Dilli mein.



God, Im in love with this place!

Filmy Family

Some random musings on a lazy working Saturday –


- Ive realized random is perhaps the most often used word in blog titles and I vow to never use it in any of mine

- I remember one meeting during MICANVAS (hope the all-caps pleases The Shrew) when I used the word ‘wacky’ in every new sentence to describe the core differentiator of my events. I was ashamed at the state of my vocab – but really, wacky WAS the best way to describe them and a better word for them still remains elusive to me.

- Working Saturday lunches at the Triveni Terrace have become somewhat of a lovely tradition here. The wintry afternoons are perfect for piping hot parathas, home-made sabjis, tangy shikanji and delicious Indian desserts

- I just coined a legendary line which trivia buffs will attribute to me when I become famous (or more likely.. notorious!) – “Writing is like peeing – I don’t do it till I absolutely can’t hold it in!”

I am a true blue gujju with a totally gujju family. We all have no taste in higher forms of art, we spend hours discussing relatives, Harshad Mehta and some set food choices we passionately love. So unlike Bongs and Tams I don’t have a huge community taking to blogging with a vengeance. I can’t joke about the financial markets and Narendra Modi as they both directly and indirectly run my household. The other day dad even told me that I get nothing as inheritance (dangerous pause).. in my pursuit of a media career as we traditionally don’t understand this media business (phew.. thank god.. for a moment there I thought ill die!)

So we are money minded people detested by some (especially Bongs I have met) for our constant hoarding activities and no hunger for knowledge (unless it’s a stock tip!) and mocked at by some (especially Hyderabadis I have met) for our inability to enjoy our obvious wealth with flamboyance, style and panache (look at the Punjabis!)

But we love our low-brow cricket and our low-brow Bollywood. We love hating Javed Miandad with burning passion - Dad/Mom/Dadi at various stages of my infant life have uttered the following line in grudging admiration of the batsman : “Aavi Gayo Miyo” – The Mian has come.

We love comedies – Be it Govinda(All the Nos.1), Sanjay Dutt (Munnabhai, mwah!) or Salman (No Entry, etc.) – they all are watched with a lot of relish.



Not being exactly the master of narration, I shall now take a halt and take you back to a time in the 1990s when me and my brother were deprived kids without cable TV at home so that we could develop other interests and not end up like other Gujju kids with no other interests apart from Cricket and Bollywood – sadly, we did end up like them – even worse – the deprivation made us even crazier about these 2 things. Our heroes were Sachin and Shah Rukh and inspite of a million new experiences and interactions, Im sure we both are going to die as fans of these 2 Men of the Hoi Polloi.



This, kind of, sets up the context for me to talk about what the title of this post is (well.. kind of!). So unlike or like any family I have ever seen, I come from a completely filmy family. Every character in my little family has had his or her really filmy moment and practices the greatest traditions of Nirupa Roy, Vijay, Raj, Rohit, Rahul and all of those as a part of their daily lives – without ever being able to distinguish whats filmy and whats not.

So when I dint score well enough in my tenth and was whining about bad checking by the moderator, my brother vowed to avenge my loss by revising his own target by another 5% in his tenth boards to compensate for mine (Jo Jeeta Wahi Sikandar anyone?)

And when my brother won the best student in school my family broke down coz he was the first kid in the family’s history to do so (Nirupa Roy ins so many movies)

And my dad sings Dev Anand’s songs during antaksharis on family trips with his signature mannerisms, addressing the lines to mom – and mom responds with a shy nod :p

I can track major events of my infant life with the release dates of the biggest SRK movies –

Fell for a girl for the first time – DDLJ

Came to know guys can wear silver necklaces – Kuch Kuch Hota Hai

Got my first pair of glasses – Mohabbatein

Fell for a girl who was lively, restless and more than a little random - K3G

And the list can go on!

Dad started telling his employees to monitor the markets “Din Raat 24 Ghante” after he had seen Sarfarosh for the 21st time

My mom becomes senti when she watches random mother – son songs and gives me a call late in the night while Im lying intoxicated (ahem!) at MICA

Every person in my family is a dancer of varied potential.

Top of the pack is mom who was a fine dancer in her heydays and continues to love dancing

My brother is a naturally graceful dancer who has lost his SRK-imitated swagger only in the last few years

I am a junglee dancer who goes so berserk while dancing that many people stay away from me when Im dancing

Dad is the weakest dancer but copies Rajesh Khanna – so its more about the dreamy expressions and less about the steps!

And the way things are going, the Sanghvi family is soon going to have its first Mega production – a rehash of K3G – Dad gets to play Amitabh and I get to play SRK (in my head I have played SRK all my life!)...

And then the “inheritance” dialogue is going to be much scary!

Past Tense Future

I wish to reach a day when writing a blog post wouldn’t require so much effort.. so much inspiration.. so much mental make-up.. a day when it will be routine.. in the process.. in the effort.. but never in quality.
Every part of me screams for me to write a Delhi-Bombay post. Have thought of too many smart-ass lines and insightful observations - filing them away somewhere in the cabinet of the mind for a more appropriate time. I am slowly reaching a stage when I will desperately need to vomit it all out on a sleepless night or end up enduring a few more. The reason why I am still holding back the post is because im not sure im at the right vantage point to view this topic right now. It will be the day I know I will be going back to Bombay for a considerable period – and that could be a month later or 13 or 25 or…. I don’t know!
So heres a tag I thought will be fun answering, although it turned out far too senti in the end:

20 years ago I . . .
• Had a young kid I could barely hold in my arms and thought it was my new toy – the way I was one for my dad
• Thought my dad to be the scariest man I will ever know and my grampa to be the owner of a massive chocolate shop
• Watched DD News with the whole family waiting for the most interesting part – the advertisements
• Survived 3 days at karate class and gave it up forever

10 years ago I . . .
• Had a young kid who thought I was the master of cricket and would bat left-handed if I asked him to
• Wore extravagant warm clothes in the non-existent Bombay winters just so that I could ape what SRK wore in his last movie
• Wanted to be a journalist and bring evil governments down
• Cried copiously in bed coz dad refused to let me go for the school trip to Rajasthan

5 years ago I . . .
• Had a young kid who had stopped revering me and hated me coz he thought mom sided with me
• Wanted to be a media baron – a la Richard Armstrong/Keith Townsend
• Saw the dead body of the most optimistic, joyous, passionate man I have ever known – my grandfather
• Was an Umangite

3 years ago I . . .
• Wept on the Kota railway station platform as a young kid looked on from the overhead bridge
• Was putting on extra flab warming the seat in a makeshift cybercafé trying to eke out a corporate career for myself in a startup
• Saw a MICA Alumni video several times over without having met those people or seen that place before
• Finally became friends with my dad

1 year ago I . . .
• Felt proud of myself – and so did my dad
• Was hopelessly in love
• Loosened down, made friends for life, danced around a courtyard all night long
• Created Micanvas

So far this year I . . .
• Fell in love with a new city
• Found something good enough to make me think about giving up on a lot of things I hold dear
• Did good work – made the right choices
• Realized my mom is also human

Yesterday I . . .
• Went to a beautiful city – but didn’t manage to see it
• Saw a simple Indian wedding - made opulent by warmth and care
• Talked to my dad the way only best friends do
• Travelled for the first time in the first class compartment - with a UP gangster for company

Today I . . .
• Imagined a Delhi girl fight and abuse her way into a Virar local in peak hours
• Realized one of my bosses might well be the best writer I have read
• Turned down a chance to spend 6 hours with a pretty girl on Delhi roads coz it wouldn’t have served the company’s interests (I know.. wtf!)
• Had a filter coffee in an udipi joint and recalled many wonderful Sunday evenings with family

Tomorrow I will . . .
• Wear a kurta for the first time to office
• Go out for drinks with colleagues and be in my element
• Take a bath!
• Brush my teeth!!!

In the next year I will . . .
• Be the best MT in my company
• Still be hopelessly in love
• See a young kid take baby steps towards defining his Lakshya
• See Sachin holding aloft the World Cup in my city

Favorite Movie Scenes

So im going to be doing lists today because it seems to be the simplest thing to do. You can be inconclusive, evasive and shallow about every new thought and have a lot of new thoughts which generate value for different readers.. It feels perfect for the times.. Look at our soap operas, our cricket (the current quality of players who are “excelling”), our politics (the cabinet reshuffle to “stem” corruption), our news (Arnab Goswami, Barkha Dutt, Shobha De.. aaaarrrgh!!) and, by extension, our lives.
Content makes for an entire series of posts and will be revisited when yours truly is in one of his “media gyan” moods.
For now, let’s concentrate on something which has worked for us over the years – cinema. The list that follows is a list of some of my favorite movie scenes over the years. Warning – I am a sucker for emotional stuff!
So here goes..
1. Hrithik Roshan – Lakshya – 2 scenes actually – one in which he points to Tiger Hill saying that is his Lakshya. And how his entire body shivers with passion when he says it. I’d kill for finding something that would create that sort of desperation inside me – it will define my life.
And the other when he talks to his father and the latter tells him he is proud of him – wonderfully done by Boman Irani – The simplicity and the reality of the scene gets to you! For a son who has disappointed his father for most part of his life, it is a defining moment; for a father who was disappointed that his son never did anything he wanted him to, it was even more so!
2. Daniel Day Lewis – In The Name of the Father – the final scene when he and his family is finally acquitted and he comes out of the court and addresses the crowd. He takes off his jacket, climbs over the barricade and talks to the world as a free man – the body language, the anger, the relief, the dialogue; the rawness of it all – pitch perfect!
3. Aamir Khan – Dil Chahta Hai – When he sees himself with his friends at the Wilson College steps – Nostalgia, camaraderie, friendship – all captured beautifully by a wonderful background score and the younger Aamir’s disappointed expression that the elder Aamir was too egoistic to apologise and win back a dear friend. A simple scene that Shahrukh would have spoilt with an unnecessary smirk, and Salman would have trivialized with a goon-ish body language
4. Johny Quid – Rock n Rolla – The cigarettes speech – beautiful words and beautifully enacted. A special mention for the lighting – it complements the dialogue wonderfully – never noticed the importance of lighting up a scene correctly for creating impact. There is so much depth in the lines. My favorite one – beauty is a beguiling call to death and Im addicted to the sweet pitch of its siren
5. Akshaye Khanna – Dil Chahta Hai (yeah! Again) – When Dimple agrees to him making a painting of hers. He goes to get his stuff from his place. What begins as a walk, turns into a stride and soon into a full-blooded run. Beautifully showing the desperation with which he wanted to paint the subject – such passion is reserved for artists and sportsmen on the screen. In reality, it’s not! Also, love the anticlimax – when she suddenly has to leave and Akshaye is left panting and unsatiated – Freudian I say!
6. Col. Hans Landa – Inglorious Bastards – The first scene at a French farmer’s house. The build-up is breathtaking. The dialogues are casual, almost to a fault. And suddenly it builds to an operatic finish. Quentin Tarantino is the baap of such scenes. 2 other examples of his genius – the hamburger scene in Pulp Fiction and the scene at the black woman’s house in Kill Bill. Col. Hans Landa is the most menacing villain I have seen since Glen McGrath – he completely lulls you into that false shot that you never wanted to play
7. KK – Black Friday – the numerous shower scenes. He doesn’t say a word. The daily torture of convicts to find out more about the blasts – and how the torture is not just theirs but his too. Again, exceptional lighting and background score. Also I think its very important to capture the water droplets from the shower in the right way and track its route through KK’s face and then his slender body – his strong arms and arched back. Brings out the conflict, pain and dilemma lyrically.
8. Will Smith – Pursuit of Happyness – The last scene. The joy of getting a job. This scene cant possibly be acted out.. cant be rehearsed in my humble understanding. You either feel it or you don’t. You can feel it only if you have felt it before or seek it desperately. The exercise of extreme restraint to not break down out of joy in front of the boss.. the running out of the office and down the steps.. the spring in the step and the clapping.. I think there was a song playing in his head.. I think there is a song playing in our heads all the time.. it just becomes louder on such occasions.. and then you dance!
Pls join in and add on. Will keep adding as and when I can.
Meanwhile, The Shrew has just become a consultant. I hate their breed but here’s wishing her all the best on a new beginning. Hope she manages to fleece a lot of businesses of their hard earned money - giving advice on things they know better than she does. More importantly, hope she comes back tired, harrowed and over-worked everyday – in her Pursuit of Happyness!!

second chances

Hello everybody,
After years spent in the blogging wilderness, trying to find an ounce of self-respect for the way I write and think, I have finally mustered courage to put together a blog post. Its funny how even as I begin to write this post, I dunno if ill reach its end – and even if I do, I dunno if I will post it.
I encountered some exceptional writers and thinkers in the last few years;
Sunder, Neeraj, Shreya, Krittika, Anuj, Ankit, Archita, Dikshita, Mudra, Nidhi – I bow to thee and your writing prowess – each of you have your own unique appeal.
Also, people like Mehta, Sachin and Shakey who have their own graphic way of expression but as impressive if not more
More articulate and erudite than I ever thought myself to be! Somewhere the competition to please a reader more than someone else took over me and I realized I would come second. I would be the Chetan Bhagat to their Arundhati Roy or VS Naipaul. I also think I am more equipped to write today than I ever was. Not because I have seen more of the world – which I definitely have – but because my reasons are much more correct – the heart is, finally, in the right place.
So I promise to not write to please. I promise to not write to showcase my dismal array of words. I promise to not get bogged down by the Ayn Rands around me. It will be simple pedestrian stuff you will read on every other fool’s blog who is egged on by his friend to
a. dazzle the women with your hold over the language, or
b. share your uniquely humdrum and routine life with people who can “see a bit of themselves in you”, or
c. state it in a b-school/job/wedding (im gujju!) interview – just fudge the hits, yaar!
Anyways, diving right into things, this blog will have random film reviews, thoughts about the media industry, cricket, snippets from my life, and I shall attach funny demeaning nicknames for my closest friends so that they can be embarrassed in public and I can feel proud to have left a legacy.
Phew!
One joke cracked. That took all the effort and spelling and grammar check in the world to get it right.
My mantra for the blog – brevity is the soul of wit.
Will try and stay true to it.. but if I don’t then kindly bear with me.. as I slowly but surely try to bring down the word count.. and try to be funny and interesting in the process (38 words in a sentence!!.. maybe I should rush back into the blogging wilderness)
Till the next time I can gather courage to put something down and put it up (funny sentence!).. toodles!!
p.s. – if you are one of those losers who has not read much in life and hence by extension think I have some unique writing skills, commenting on my first post in ages would spur me on to seize the moment and write more. Also, if you are one of those best friends who encouraged me to write in the first place, its ur duty to comment!

my initial impressions of my new home

the keyboard can never replace the pen for me but the situation i find myself in makes it mandatory for me to resort to this medium. my posts in the past have been few and far between. but among the many things i have promised myself i wil change, the regularity of blogging is one of them.


my arrival at Mudra Institute of Communications, Ahmedabad is a story of pure chance- something that i have realised now is common among a lot of past and present students of this institution. when i arrived here on the morning of... i really have lost count of the days.. i dont remember when exactly but i think around ten days ago... chance continued to play its role. i happened to be the first student of my batch to set foot at the institute. whats more, i was allocated room number 1 (they had pre-allocated the rooms and hence it had nothin to do wid my coming in first). whats even more, the name of the hostel was Palaash- the name of one of my favorite singers. i found a lot of joy in the fact that i was the first person to enter the place. dont know why. but the moment i set step, i felt i belong here. that i can call this place my home- the way i did to Narsee Monjee college for 5 years.

about 10 days have passed since then and they have been very eventful. its not as if we are inundated wid lectures and assignments and studies. but i havent really had time to sit back and dwell. its because i was busy taking in the atmosephere. making sense of all that the seniors, professors and alumni had to say- but most importantly what the place itself had to say about it. what i have realised is that i have reached just the kind of place that suits me. it suits me not only in its positives but also in its shortcomings. i have a weakness since childhood that whenever i encounter something too grand, huge or magnificent, or atleast is perceived that way, i tend to become uncomfortable and ovedrwhelmed. lets face it- this place is no IIM or Harvard. which suits me just fine. it feels more homely and friendly. i have realised that my aspiration here cannot be just to take all that this school can offer me- if thats the case then ill recover only half of the monetary and emotional fee i have paid. what will complete the deal is to give all that i can to the school. and i strongly believe i have a lot to give and mica has a lot to take. all my peers have asked these questions to the seniors and profs- how is mica vis-a-vis the IIMs? oh come on now! lets face it. u r here coz u cudnt get thru to an iim. so its obviously not as good as them albeit in the traditional sense of the term. mica is many more things- its a lazy resort for some and a place for purely creative pursuits for others. both of them are misconceptions which need to be corrected. but why demand answers from the school when you can be its answer? i feel the power here to change whats wrong bout this place- something which i wudnt have in a bigger b-school. i feel the the heart of this school is in the right place. it knows its direction and how to get there. this is all one can ask from its teacher. and this is all im askin from mica. but one thing thats much more true here than anywhere else is the fact that i hold the power to decide how much i take away from this place in the 2 years. freedom is a threat and an opportunity. i havent handled it in the most perfect manner in the past but im willing to try and change that in the next 2 years.

the lush green grounds which extend in every direction, the warmth of the air-conditioned library, the coolness of the summer-heated hostel room, the sound of the seasonal birds, the nocturnal stillness. its all is so very intoxicating. i have liked a few profs and found others to be below par. but i can live with that. the extent to which i learn in the classroom is anyways limited. but i love PAT (professor atul tandan)- he always asks the right questions and is a master story-teller. he reminds me of my grandfather who passed away 3 years ago. there is that glint of mischief, that youthful quality of reslessness in his voice. the same booming quality that made my Dada a darling of the entire family.

i havent made a lot of friends here in the deep sense of the word. there is always someone to accompany me at the dinner table, or to play table tennis or to go to the chhota canteen. but nothing more than that. but there is this acquaintance from my college who has also come here nad we have become very good friends. we tend to connect at a certain level. its not as if we talk very often but there is this assurance that she is around. to be frank i havent felt the need to make friends bcoz im findin as the days go by that im very good company for myself. im lovin spendin time wid myself- roamin the lawns by the day and the night. reading books and observing people. im loving the evening football and thenight volleyball. im go to bed every morning at around 3 or 4 totally exhausted and find myself totally awake by 8 in the morning. somehow sleeping seems an unnecessary chore here.

i remember something my friend had sms-ed me few months ago. nothing beats this- lying half naked in the middle of the field after a vigorous game drenched in sweat and totally exhausted. this place has provided me that joy. the privilege to experience it everyday.