Sunday, August 24, 2008


Three weeks into the college, I should probably write about the same. Except that I still can’t figure out how I feel about it. “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times……………” I don’t need to trace the quote’s genesis. Except that everyone says, “These are the best four years of your life. Enjoy them.”
Then there is, “ DCE mein books pado naa pado, notice boards zaroor padhna. Chaar saal class mein baithoge to fight ho jayegi. Ghisu ban jayoge. Believe me, you don’t want to be ghisu.”
The worst probably is, “I have seen you somewhere……………. Are you from xyz public school.”
I speak to some strangers. I introduce them to other strangers as my friends. I read Dilbert in class. Sometimes, I play Sudoku. Sometimes, I listen and wish I hadn’t. I walk a lot. Sometimes, I walk alone. Sometimes, I walk around in circles. I finish practical work early and I walk. The campus is beautiful. And labyrinthine. Sometimes, I don’t know where I am going. Sometimes, I don’t know that I have reached.
Sometimes, I am disappointed. Sometimes, I feel a quiet jubilation. Mostly, I feel ambivalence. Mostly, I don’t know what to say when people ask me how I like the college. Mostly I say that I think that it is really nice. The drainage system IS nice. Delhi has seen an inordinate amount of rain and so, there is one thing that I am sure of.
Sometimes, I sit on the grass and I discuss Pink Floyd, Ayn Rand and Howard Roark with some people. Sometimes, I feel at home. Sometimes, I am at peace. Sometimes.
Tomorrow, I will attend a seminar on “knowledge power in a world of learning.” Hopefully. I sent the paper a day late owing to flu. Horrible flu. I am looking forward to it..........the seminar I mean. Not the flu.

Sunday, August 3, 2008

Sedation of the sybaritic

“I believe I once considerably scandalized her by declaring that clear soup was a more important factor in life than a clear conscience.”
-HH Munro
(The Blind Spot)

Bed time snacks pose a perplexing hesitation for a person of an unexcitable disposition. After all, you don’t want toast at one o’clock in the night. Also, there is not much you can unearth from your artless arsenal. You appreciate your lassitude as you feed on bananas and biscuits. Ofcourse, you don’t care that bananas score high on glycemic index as long as they are good for your soul. Ofcourse, you don’t even want to contemplate the nutritional appraisal of biscuits. You also don’t want to miss the look on your brother’s face on discovering the absentia of the same.

The ongoing similitude of your gravity does not discourage your habitude till the culpability of it starts weighing on your conscience. Thereon in, you take to having herbal tea. You see, it throttles your appetite.