A new beginning..

It was raining on that day. And it was raining after a long dry spell. The smell of the warm earth washing away its aridness was ecstatic. I was sitting near the window with a coffee in my hand. The power had gone and the sound of thousands of droplets falling was carving a soothing music. I loved rain very much. Back at home, I used to watch it for hours from my easy chair. I saw different patterns of rivulets in making as quickly as it washed away. And harmonic acoustics that played in between sometime made me a conductor, during that time I was the Mozart and I was the Beethoven. Sometimes tiny bits of moisture made its way onto my face, like as if we were playing hide and seek. Years later when I bought my first bike, rain was another experience. Then we played robber and police, from far behind, through my rear view mirror I could see it coming. I would accelerate to beat it and may win for a few streets but eventually it would catch me. And I still remember, it would rain on the day I would have washed my bike, making it all muddy again. Ha ha ha I miss my bike and I miss the rain that made it muddy. But there was time when I hated rain, when I would curse with all the foul words that I knew against it. Those were days when I hated white colour too, on Wednesdays we had this physical training classes where it was compulsory to wear all white – I hated Wednesday too then. Like an uninvited guest, rain would come from the north and make my dress all spoiled, later that day my mother would be bashing me up for no cause of mine. But over the years I developed a relation with the rain which howsoever large umbrella tried to stop, waned into nothingness. And one among the few things I always dream is driving alone along a high Tropical Mountain in the company of a drizzle and stopping near road side shack for having a hot cup of tea. I loved that rain as it always takes me to my utopia.

But somehow the rain in front of me was different, it was not dancing to some tune made in heaven , it was as if pouring down just to wash away the dryness and make the earth ready for next harvest. Not far from my window there is a giant tree and during spring it used to bear beautiful yellow flowers. The tree was so huge that I never thought I could miss it at any time of the day. But in this rain I tried hard to see it, but I couldn’t. Infact I couldn’t see anything beyond five feet.

Maybe it rained for hours, when I woke up my coffee was cold. And not very far I could see that giant tree. But everything had changed; there was freshness which had avoided the place long time ago. Power had come back, I had forgotten to switch of the television and weatherman saying about slight chances of a drizzle that evening.

And I forgot.

There are decisions that make you think after years later.
And that time, you would say "I wish I hadn't...".
Life gives you many like that, but it just moves on ....to make a retrospection some time ahead.
Only common thing i find are the retrospection that we make from time to time, Whether it was right or wrong - it doesn't matter at all.

And right now, I am not taking a peep into the past, but into the future. To know if i would subject this decision for retrospection years later.......and i conclude that I would. And whatever the decision, i believe only time could tell if it was right or wrong. And even if it was right, my mind would definitely looking for a better right then....after all, I am a mere human.


Never to remember, forgotten she will be...from this moment.
Chapters of years to come, written with tears of yester...starts now.
Life been never easy, and easy doesn't i assume further.....just moving ahead.
But forgotten she should be, lest i remember her always....
To sleep I am going, with dreams for sure.....but not her though.

zeros and my life.

Drowsy look, almost bald head, bulging eyes, dark circle and to compliment all these - stinking,dirty white shirt. The picture you get: a highly intelligent and nerdy studyaholic

But alas except for such a look on some days, I am no where near those last said adjectives.

Take 1: Pattern recognition Mid semester exam.

Only during exam I enter the lecture hall before time.Reason: to get those precious "safe zones" for sitting. But alas some crooks also thinks like me and there I was on the first bench!


Prof. come in with the holy grail, and distribute one drop in the most judicious way so as to save institute and his household a penny or more.
what?? was this in the syllabus, ...syllabus- there is nothing like that over here. Aha! I know the second one - but sh*t i forgot to bring the calculator. 3rd ,4th -the question itself is page long, i wonder how long would the answer be!!!....at least i should do the last question - what in the world is the projection of perpendicular to a hyperplane got to do with the margin of SVM(non techies:support vector machines, and no they are not machines! another computer naming gimmick )?????
The exam was out of 15 marks and I had to complete in one hour: well if did know how to complete those problems in one hour i would never have been here in the first place!

And before I could think(imagine!) one hour was over. If I was STUDYING the same subject it would have felt like I was sitting for hours even if it was few minutes, but during exam time its the inverse proportionality that runs!!!!

I never had a blank paper (off course everybody can lie and in gates of heaven, i know, he will forgive me for telling one more!).Prof gave me a stare after seeing my paper - I was ashed down and cremated to eternity then and there.

Thus came my FIRST zero(lord pardon me for this one too!)

Take 2: web mining and information retrieval Mid semester exam.

Mother called me in the morning to tell me that i am having a bad time according to my horoscope.She paid 250bucks for knowing that from an astrologer. Well I knew it two days before itself. Only thing to know was how bad it will get.

After a break of 2 days I was all pumped up(to run away!) for this exam.
Everybody said the paper would be nothing but probability and vector calculus, sounds interesting eh? (in a loud speaker:HELP!!!!!) . And to avoid mental blocks when you see that sign of nemesis (pr()- read probability of) you need to be calm and composed - well that was the advice from well pundits of this field. So conclusion was that to watch as many new releases possible and roam around the campus without taking a peek into at least the basic syllabus.
But things weren't that easy...How to make yourself composed when you are bombarded with poisoned arrow that corrupts your mind in believing just one possibility among N propositions - again probability theory .

When prof gave me the question ...uh question-cum-answer sheet i was surprised to see a THINKS TO READ stuff before the questions started.

1. Answers(if solved of course) should be given in the space provided
2. incoherent or illogical answer(if anything comes into ur woody brain!) will be penalized with negative credit and worse than not answering(you said you take it!)
3. Dont ask for extra rough sheet, given is sufficient(well i write in large font)

After threat and warnings I looked the black board. There was a caution " question are in approx easy first order". well that would save some time.

so I don't have to start from the last question as i do(Lord forgive me for that one!)

Question 1: is that english ? what language is that ? sure there is spelling or font mistake!! If this is the case for first question , god save me from massacre!
Question 2: contains 5 sub questions with each next pointing to the answer from the previous question - clever i would say. damn doesn't he want to answer any of these questions????
Question 3,4,5 - I didn't know any!

The more i tried to concentrate, i became all the more confused. The probability of choosing correct probability was thinning down with high probability!! And the only probability left to calculate after 2 hours was whether i would be getting a zero or a negative mark. But aint I smart ? I didn't answer any of them- phew! saved the shame of getting a negative mark(I swear I haven't got a negative mark in my whole life so far!!!)

Just when I thought 2 hrs is finally going to be over. Prof says in a stentorian voice " I know the paper was tough, so here is your bonus - you can take 90 more minutes." Oh man! the paper is seriously tough and damn I need to sit here for another one and half hours more.

So I sat and counted seconds inside those one and half hours dreaming about my upcoming zero.

Take 3: Now dont tell me I will be getting one more of that wonderful ancient Indian masterpiece !! Damn the one who invented zero, no wonder nobody knows him...after all he has been cursed so many times !

2008: Something to forget....

All the things that you did, or wished to do.
All the things that you remembered, or remembered to forget.
All the things that changed, or changed to change.

I wish I was just a mere drop in the rivulet that fell from high above into the eternity below. To be with you again is my wish and so couldn't I in that year.

In the hope of meeting you starts a new year and year after year I cherish the same new year resolution : to be with you, to walk on our breezy beach, to see the sunset once again.

Melancholy night asked me not to dream, because dreams, she says, are for the ones who has lost hope. But here i am, waiting to see you again as ever as last year and may be the next .......until that day.

Paradox it may be but moment after moment I remember you lest I forget you. And when I meet you I will have stories to tell you.

Oh 2009 , I look forward for you.

My inspiration: a lovely piece of music

Once again...

Sand walls with its air of misty musk welcomed him again.

The gharana hadn’t changed a bit, but there was no resounding voice of khansahib to greet him this time, instead his old mellowed tampura was there. Besides it was a lamp that sometimes flickered by the unannounced gentle breeze that came through the veranda. “Have some chai” tai said in her usual caring tone from behind. She made the best chai he ever had, after every hour khansahib used to call tai for a chai and she, like an obedient wife, would get him one within minutes, whether it be dawn or midnight. Sometime he too used to get a cup. He missed those days…dearly.

Bhoop, Bihagda ,Bhairavi …..khayals, taans ….whatever khansahib taught him flashed like it was yesterday. He missed them, and khansahib loss was something irreparable to him.He didnt know what , but there was void, Just like as if furniture had been taken away from your home. He remembered the first time when his mother forcefully carried him all the way from cricket ground to this courtyard. He detested it and in fact had cursed his mother and khansahib endless time in his mind.

But that was long ago, somewhere in between there was a time when he would even bunk school to be with Khansahib. He still vividly remembered his first live performance, behind khansahib on tempura after his splendid discourse, it was his turn. He started off in purvi raga although there was flattening at the first he thought it went well, until after coming from the concert, when khansahib made him sing the raga for more than 4 hours at a stretch. Somewhere in between, with all those thousand compromises he made with life, Music was also unconditionally left out.

After spending another one hour there he prepared to leave, when tai gave him a present. It was small dilapidated note book. “He wanted you to have it” tai said. It was his music notes, some composition, drupads from his master. He eyes swelled with tears, without saying a goodbye to tai he walked away.It was already getting dark, and from behind, he thought he heard a faint sound of a tampura. He stopped and turned back. Tai waved him good bye.

Reference: Namita Devidayal ,The music room

I will retaliate

This is my country. It is my duty to protect her and yet again I failed. I don’t blame anybody, I don’t blame the politicians, I don’t blame the intelligence and I don’t blame the system. I blame myself. It was my failure to protect her, it was my inability rather it was my complacency that gave away her this time.

But let me assure you, if you are reading this, let the message be clear. I don’t want to see anymore blood stained roads, I don’t want to see anymore charred bodies, I don’t want to see anymore wailing of my mothers and sisters. I don’t want to see all this anymore.
Time for being laid back and switching the channels and consoling myself that it’s not me out there who lost his life is over.

Remember we too are human, the limit of patience that I have is same as yours and its same adrenaline that pumps my temper. Deep down there is something even I don’t like to see. Now, time for you to choose is over and it’s my turn. And If choose, god forbid, that ugly face over diplomacy there won’t be no tomorrow for you.

I promise that.

So stop messing with my nation and get the bloody FUCK out of my country.

Jai Hind!

A dedication

Memories are wonderful things if you don’t have to deal with the past.

Dedicated to my memories......sweet and bitter.

Falling leaves of December,

May I ask if you permit?

While you are not here,

Where ll be the shade I am in.

Falling leaves of December,

May I know where you are going?

In that distant horizon, carried by misty breeze,

Who will be there with me when you are gone?

Falling leaves of December,

Leave me not, for I ll be all alone.

Falling leaves of December,

Leave me not, for there are none but you.

Another mistake....

4 years had passed since we last met.

I was tensed. My heart was pumping in a rhythm that showed the unrest in me, yes I wanted to see her but was unaware how she would take it.

Destiny played it best to avert such a meeting, but somewhere, with a golden pen it was already written and whatever the forces that tried to ebb it away… failed.

In that corridor, in the midst of pain and anguish, I saw her.
In that divine white coat, she was an angel for everybody in pain …..And for me too.

Countless neurons calculated and recalculated the next decision…turn and walk away.

Before by reflexes could get accustomed and agree to it, she saw me.

From the midst of aching and wailing bodies, she waved me to wait, with that ever intriguing smile.

I nodded, even before I could think.
…………………………………………………………….

May she would have come to the end of that long corridor, to find the empty white bench.

Life had many mistakes; I had added one more to it then.

Unanswered...

Someday, yes... , someday I will meet her.

Then too, I will be having the same question as of today.

By then, May be I would be a little slow but surely, I would articulate in a better way.

I would have phrased and rephrased it a thousand times in mind by then,huh…just like what I am doing right now.

And yes, I would have a little hesitation that would be there if she was in front of me right now, right here.

I know it would be late …but then life, as somebody rightfully said, is just memories. Along with myriads of them, this would be just another one.

Every day I get up with a hope that today would be day and every night, before going to sleep I hope it would be tomorrow.

I know what she would say,….. just another lie .

And I know what I would do then…..simply turn around and walk away.

But when I meet her, I need to ask her that.

A Tribute to Tagore

I write about the personal and my alter life in my blog, but this time I simply wanted to put something that i stumbled upon.

Stream of Life

The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures.

It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth in numberless blades of grass and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers.

It is the same life that is rocked in the ocean-cradle of birth and of death, in ebb and in flow.

I feel my limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of life. And my pride is from the lifethrob of ages dancing in my blood this moment.

Hats off to the great poet!!!!!
This is what prompted me :->Here you go

Huh!

I don’t understand many things in life. I don’t learn many things from my life. Moreover I don’t learn from my mistakes. Yet I am complete …but in an incomplete way. I know what is wrong …but sometimes doesn’t see what is right. I see everything …yet I fail to see subtle nothings.

I am just living…but in a utopia. I know the rules ….but a different set govern me. I succeed in most of my endeavors …yet I am hiding. I am here yet running …..To somewhere….to where? I don’t know.

I am in love, I was in love…. and painfully I realized I will be in love forever, because I don’t know what love is. To forget somebody who always comes as mist of remembrance, is it possible? I don’t know, yet I know that I will never know. I don’t where she is or what she is doing, She even doesn’t know my existence yet I love her from bottom of my heart…truly, madly ,deeply.

I am sane but sanity is the very same insanity that drives me. I not crazy, yet acts like no normal. I believe things which others reject as axioms which cannot be substantiated. I am confused, yet what I do is right, People cannot call that luck because fortune never blesses the damned.

I enjoy life, every moment… Yet feels it empty.

I am waiting ….waiting, may be forever…for what? I don’t know.

Cynicistic Paradox

Its 9:40 in the night.16 pairs of eyes were looking at the doorway.
Professor is late . late by 10 min. It not unusual, but a day before independence day and that too in the night for a class that's going to stretch for the next,if unfortunate, one and half hours, it is a close call of limits.

They were not disappointed.

Like a storming wind he barged in . Plugged in the lap top and the show began.

Straight on the board. "If we fail to prove something then Negation of that something is assumed to be true"

"I want you all to analyse this statement and come up with the meaning " . he asked in a low whisper like voice.

He wondered whether it was really a technical course or some course of psychology that he was attending.

"Are the resources introduced into subject of being failed" somebody from the left of him asked.
"What???" his stomach started to roll, what did he mean...

"You are provided with infinite time and space for the quest." He answered while cleaning his black rimmed spectacles.

"What is the idea of being true? I mean how do you judge what is true" .
"Vidyut, truth is the deduction based on the facts" professor said with a wink.

"In the absence of any evidence to the contrary a proposition is assumed to be true".
somebody from the back row shouted.

Bingo! he said with his usual tinker of both index fingers.

"So what does that prove....?"

But sir..." came a low husky kind of voice , with a low confident note from the right corner.

"yes...". professor was getting impatient.

"I think that sentence itself is contradicting"

everybody turned back.
"another nerd" he thought.

"And how it may be .." Prof was curious.
"because if we fail to prove something , for negation of that something to be true ...it should be false for that something." He said with an air of supremacy.

The class dropped into pin drop silence.

The professor just stared into the board. You could hear the ululation of the fan.

Always....

Days, months, years have passed. But like a flashes of a bygone time, she comes to me.
Sometime with her smiles, sometime with her eyes .....and sometimes with those last words.

I try to forget but always remember.


From my window ,I look at the Powai Lake, With a full moon lighting HN at the other horizon and creating a thousand colors in the water , I try to forget her. But she comes again.
"is she the one walking on the other side among those millions that i see as dots running back to their homes."

Mistakes, I believe biggest mistake is the one when you don't realise you have made a mistake.
And the worst suffering , is to live through the life after knowing that mistake.

The silence of the night is singing its soothing lullaby, but i cannot sleep today.
And yet again she is smiling at me.

I wish I knew

Don’t know when I started noticing you.

May be in the lab, between colored liquids that had not so romantic names.

May be during the breaks.. , that were too small for me to know you.May be during the tour, where I had already gone but came for some reason….which still I don’t know.

May be during the hot and stifling examination room with you in my front..

After all these years, I just can’t stop noticing you, even though you told me not to.

In the new unturned pages of new book, where I thought lady in the long frock with white umbrella walking along the rustic road were you…..

While walking through the beach, I so hoped that girl with long curly hair walking far in front of me was you…

Sipping the brewed coffee in the restaurant, those tingling voice with hushed laughter from behind, I thought were yours.

For every door opened, while singing in the karaoke bar, I was anxious to see your gleaming smile.

May be in the time to come I will try stop noticing you around me.

But if you ask me I still don’t know when I started noticing you.

Perception.

You meet somebody and you sketch a character of him.

Sometime in the first meeting you understand him, sometimes... a life time is not enough.

You percieve ,You analyse and you infer.

But you are wrong. your eyes decieve you.

Vision ...a pure chemical logic placed in you just to decieve you.....from being rationale, from being pragmatic, from being right.

You fail....but you dont learn.

And next time, they decieve again.

Reborn~


I love the myth about Phoenix.
Rising from ashes, to undo all the mistakes of previous life.
Moreover its a new life with a purpose that was left incomplete in the previous life.

I can die a thousands times to meet my destiny.

But will I be reborn ?

The answer came in a mail.
I patiently waited for the mail to open. I was expecting it with those heart breaking
news carved in stylish italics. "We are sorry to inform you that your application for MS in Computer science has been declined......"

My eyes scanned for those preconceived lines.I read it twice,....I thought i was hallucinating.

Happiness is not just a word but an elation that words can seldom describe. I realised then.

"We are happy to inform you that your application for MS in computer Science has been accepted....."
I was reborn again,.... from the ashes.

Senility plus one

24 years of life and he looks back, the life seems still the same. In a few years his black hair would get whitened. And sometimes who knows, there might be no hair left at all. Senility is spreading its ugly grin across his innocent face and people mistake it for his maturity.

To an out of rhyme ‘happy birthday to you’, he put off the candles…without making the wish. He already had the dream, now it’s not just a wish. It’s a want. Layers of chocolate paved way to either side as he steadily sunk the cleft knife to down below. Yes everything was moving away for his dream and for the first time he saw clearly what’s going to happen…. Without any haze, without any ambiguity.

Some traditions are never broken. They sustain the test of time and pulls back an era you would never want to forget. GPL , the customary bum kick is one that no birthday celebration in a college can’t do without. But years after the college it stayed with him. He pleaded like an innocent but alas those wails didn’t have any effect on his marauders. Without mercy, they beat and in the end they reasoned it was all love. Yes, love was always painful.

One more year of senility added. Change was happening, but the rate was slow. People around him didn’t see the transformation. But he knew he had changed. His coming years are never going to be the same, never going to be easy. And he didn’t want them easy because if it’s easy what’s the fun. He smiled at himself and in gleeful tone wished him a ‘happy birthday’.

My Third eye.

I wanted to be a troubadour and sing the glory of the memories that snapped passed through my eyes. I want to stop it being just memories. I want to capture them all. And whenever I look them back I should get that vividness when I first saw or felt them.
I try to capture them, and most of the times I end up chasing something that was so near yet so far. On that day, I was half an hour late. I wanted to capture the lake in shades of orange and pale yellow. But I was late… as usual. Watchman said they have closed for day. He said that to me. I pretended not to hear that. I was deaf for second or two. The light was residing fast and I knew after an hour or so even this scenery that imprinted on memory would be washed out. Carving out a memory to bits and bytes is now my new hobby. And when people say I am not that good makes me all the more to copy the nature with my third eye. Theoretically I know everything the rule of the third, the mid tone intensity, the long exposure idea, Multi timing flash – you name it, I would be having it in my head. But when it comes to connect them with my camera, I fail to do the justice.
I go for my kill. The sky is neither orange nor pale yellow as I thought it would be, nor is it a clear blue. Nature has beaten me. But this time I am in no mood to accept the defeat. I start my first shot standing, next one sitting, and the next hanging and so on…until I get the picture I wanted. I check out how my new venture has come up. Bad..or rather I would say “oh my god!!”. I check out how my friend is doing. He got interested in photography after he saw me going through all my theory. He wanted a break from my mouth. His snaps are nice…some are good…really good.
After my dismal failure, I decided to go back. But I know I would come back, because it’s so beautiful and moreover it was very elusive too.
After a week I went back to same place and captured the beauty everybody would love to watch all over again. And this time too, it didn’t fail to get my attention.

A valentine memoir

Friend?, a classification that didn’t fit her. And when, suddenly, the old memories come as a phone call, you panic as if it’s going to change. For a voice that casted the binding spell in my heart, it didn’t require a second to realize it was her.

How did I know it was you? You were always there with me.

Men don’t cry, they say, but for tears that didn’t come then.. didn’t know it was the same me.

And with years and distance apart, for a folly that was once done, I realize she is not in my arms to say ‘I love you’.

PS: I got the idea from poornima's post 'Do you know how long longing can be? '

The paradox.

I started wearing coolers. The dark ones, you know, which covers your eyes completely. I can see everybody but nobody can see me. They don’t see my eyes and eyes tell stories, Stories that I don’t want the world to see.
When they see me, I smile. I want them to happy, we go to places, pull each other’s leg, sometime quarrel and then reconcile. Behind the dark coolers, unknown from them I search her. Just a last glance that’s all I need. They ask me to sing, a line or two from yester years. In sweet remembrance of her smile i sing. They applaud, I smile again. One more they say, I ask which one. The one in which she departs is what they want, for the music that soothes their ears I sing those tearing lyrics. And when the music dies away, they clap again, I say thank you .
While on the beach, everybody is off with their better half. For a moment, that feeling of loneliness creeps to me. I want to be with her, and watch this glorious sunset. Salty sea breeze wakes me gently from my dreamy dream. They are coming back, one by one. I say I do not want to come to beach if the they are going to treat me this way. You don’t need to be alone, they say. They make fun of me for being alone and sitting with another friend, who is a guy, and watch the sunset. I laugh at them, and walk towards the sea to have a game with her. Others follow, we fight, throw each other so that waves can catch us. After much shouts and hooliganism we leave her to rest.
With wet foot covered in sand we watch movie in the hall. I check the seat to my left, there is nobody. I check to my right, there is everybody! Am I in the center? Or am I just left out. They call me, compares me with the hero. The movie doesn’t have a heroin. I smile at them. And when the end comes, I see a tear or two in few. They say it was a good movie. I smile again.

Travelogue of a vagabond.

Its almost 3 in the morning and i am not feeling sleepy. So here goes my travelogue for the Allahabad.

A journey to delve into past and dig up that would take me to future that was the motive of this present trip.

Some say all you need is money to travel, the rest would be taken care by the same. I always believed the same. But this time I planned unlike anything else I have done before, I planned this voyage. All the tickets booked prior, in fact well before the last moment. Northern plains of ganges were shivering , so I got myself 2 blazers from friends. I phoned the professors got myself appointment . Then I send them the letter , the format, the resume everything that suffix for the objective of journey to be successful : to get the letter of recommendation from the best professors in the best format. Then I had called my juniors for getting a place to bunk . And so the journey was to be fruitful, if everything went fine…of course.

The cab came at the right time to pick me to Chennai airport. Kamaraj airport was busy as usual, I checked for any good looking ladies, none. Thank you Chennai. I got my boarding pass and went to the security check. My baggy pants with innumerous pockets made the security guard think I was a terrorist . Apparently it was on the eve of Dec 06. And all the airport across the country was on high alert. But nevertheless, the lackadaisical approach of the Indian police force was omnipresent. The guard just checked the left part of my body, I was free to go in with anything in my right pocket. Too much of security!

The ageing fleet of Air Deccan sometimes gives you a shudder across your spines when you put the first step on it.But then on that day , I never had a faintest belief that I would be another Icarus. Even before I could get a good nap in the plane, it landed in Indira Gandhi international airport.

Delhi, the powerhouse of india, had changed from what I saw three years back. A glossy metropolitan look that awed everybody, welcomed me with a cozy chillness . With flyovers that criss crossed, with cars that you could never afford , with building that roared at sky, Delhi was majestic as it was always. I took a pre paid taxi and went to station. Pahar Ganj in purana delhi was still the same, as if the god just winked his eyes when he crossed this area while horning his artistic skills. This was the place where you found the actual india, the india of bhaiyaas who don’t know how to read, how to feed their children their daily bread, who were despised without any pettiness. I tried to remember the last time here, with anish and arun. Those were the best days which are never to return. Inside the train , it was easy for me to doze off. The secret of getting a fast sleep is simple – just take a book that’s damn boring.

In winter, even Laloo can’t make the train run on time. After the first cycle of my sleep, I slowly opened my eyes to see the same old delhi station. It was 1:00 AM in the morning and I haven’t moved an inch towards “abode of god” aka Allahabad. These are the moments when you feel why you had to take all these pains. But then no pain ,no gain. Memories of old journeys began to peek into my semi conscious mind, the first time with sudeep and haris , another time when we nearly lost the connection train, when we travelled without ticket, when Eunice took arun’s cards and threw them away…..those time, will they come again? . I tried my level best to sleep, I took the book and again started reading. At around the hour of devil I finally succumbed to angel of sleep.

North Indians are early risers, so at 10:00 Am morning everybody was busy snoring under their quilt. I looked out for the station.. Kanpur. Another three more hour and I will be there once again, may be for the last time. Kanpur is one of the dirtiest city I ever seen. There is nothing to admire here except the IIT. It was a dream come true when I first stepped into this green campus. And we were there for three days. This is where we the underdogs pulled our sleeves and bet almost 50 colleges in northern india to get ourselves a 2nd place in Antaragni. I still remember that hall in which I along with sudeep, 2 mallus stopping the heart beats of all hindi speakers in the last minute and getting on to final Hindi dumb charades competition. Those were days, when you don’t know whats going to happen the next minute still success comes in the end, somehow . The train started to move slowly. I didn’t remember whether my college would pass through this track. No,it comes when you come from Banaras side. The last time when we went to Banaras, we pulled the train on the way back to get down in the college instead of the station.

Allahabad – pretty much the same. The same old crowded station, babus chewing beetal leaves and expectorating everywhere, the frail hapless looking rickshawwalas . I took a rickshaw, he asked 15 rs to govindpur, I didn’t argue for the first time. I was earning now, and no longer I am carrying my pop’s money. On the way, before crossing the civil lanes, I checked out for the old Tibetan winter market. No, they hadn’t come, instead a lot of new Indian traders had taken their place. Strange, they too have been disposed, like me. Somebody new had taken their place, just like my rooms would be occupied by somebody. We reached telarganj in no time, I was shocked when I saw the new gate of the campus. The old one had been better. But then change is a must . Inside it was better, the roads were tarred and garden renovated, a new administration block in the shape of I don’t know what.The change was evident. It was already 1:00 PM, the final years would be having an exam at 2. I could see few students busily going to exam halls. I laughed, I knew why they were going this early. If destiny permits they will sit in the same bench on which they would have written the formulas otherwise ,of course ,the roll number rules. The garden in front of the hostel was even more beautiful. I was happy that I had the camera to capture them. I never stayed in Tilak hostel, but it was no different from Patel. Room number 260 that’s where I was supposed to bunk. During the ragging time I used to get myself lost in these corridors, but then I found the trick, 15 rooms in a wing , divide the room number and you get in which floor you need to go. So I went to third floor. Room 260 was locked.

Mobile phone is a boon to the immobile (if he is a student!), But once in a corporate life, it makes you immobile. Now I was in college , and nearly a student again. I called up my junior and within 5 minutes he was there to greet me. Our greetings started without failing the tradition – the most nastiest and dirtiest introduction to each other and then a hug. Inside the room, it was a typical engg grad room. A study table with com half open and covered in dust, a lot of Photostat papers which served their purpose only on the eve of exams, and then the good old beautiful cot with Rajai : the most cherished belonging of a grad student here in winter. I had to wash my face, I walked towards the end of the corridor. The restrooms were the same, but a lot cleaner. I guess more civilized students have been given admissions recently, and the change could well be seen. The water from the tub was cold and refreshing. After splashing 2 handful over my face I looked into the mirror. On the sides there were gray stray marks, where silver had waned off, or may be ….

After changing to a presentable civilized form , I got off to see my professors. First I went to the one who taught me how to take a class. After returning from Stanford university (he taught there for 13 years) he gave us a scare by giving one of the toughest paper of all time. Out of 150 students only 56 passed, fortunately I was one among them. I had already taken the appointment, and he was expecting me. He said what he needs from me and I gave him in no time. I was happy to whatever the former director asked me to do. Before leaving from the computer science department I went to see the one thought me the secret rule of the blessed – confidence is the mother of everything. He was happy to see my face and took around to all other professors . Goose bumps were shooting all over my body. Yes I was a good student, at least. He gave me one of the best recos I have ever seen. I repented my thought of throwing him a stone in the night after the final year presentation. My intentions were not always right, but given a chance to rectify I would surely do. But opportunities are very hard to find now a days.

The winter nights in Allahabad is one memory that I would always cherish in my life.

With fog making your vision hazy and smoke coming out of your mouth, it gives one the spooky feeling that you see in some of the ghost movies. I and my junior went to My Ghana at around 10:00. This is the place where we used to share our joy and disappointments. Countless treats, countless bouts all came flooding into my memory. After tasting the once forgotten spicy food, we took our way back. Far across, in the basket ball court, we could see the flood lights. Somebody were playing. To refresh my memories he took me there. Under the brightness of halogen where even the sun would get ashamed off, guys were practicing . Not very far, the volleyball court was also occupied. I remembered the times when we used to come here and play till 4:00 in the morning. I bet, nowhere in India you could get facilities like this.

Next day I was on the way to do all sorts of paper work. Indian bureaucracy is known for their laggardness. I was expecting the same here. From 10 to 2:30 I started walking from one desk to another . Finally the verdict was out. I would get my certificates on Monday. “Monday!!!” – who needs them on Monday . I wanted to protest, apart from increasing adrenaline flow, I knew, it was not solution. One of my junior said he would take care of it. I was relieved. One thing I must say is that ragging makes you closer. I don’t know how it gets undone but it’s true. Talking of ragging , there was once this funny thing that happened. In the first year because of heavy ragging we decided to boycott it. The term was called “Group out”, meaning you are not going to be a part of the mallu clan. But due to some unavoidable circumstances we decided not to go forward with it. But by then seniors came to know about it. So during the next room call , all nine of us were summoned . we were standing in a straight line. One senior in his raucous voice asked us whose plan was it to boycott. With our head down and sweating profusely, Everybody was trembling with fear, you don’t know what they are going to do. He then said whosever want to quit the group and could come forward . As soon as he said this , we all took a step back ward, except sudeep ,he didn’t see this treachery coming. And thus he became the scapegoat. The same senior was there with me in Chennai laughing at our fears and being there for everything, day or night.

Before it even started, it was the time to go. I wanted to take few shots so I took my camera and roamed around the campus. These sights would always be there in my mind, But I never knew when I would return. May be never. One thing I learned here or rather this campus taught me was how to detach myself from everything. I never felt any emotion while I left this place 3 years before. I knew it would never happen also. But yes, this place holds a special position in my heart. Well.. am I contradicting ? if not, then it’s not me who is speaking. I had to get one more recommendation letter, this was the most precious one. She was my guide. I still remember the embarrassment caused when my project didn’t get executed on the final day in front on 60 odd people. Would you call it unfortunate if you have 2 design which worked just perfectly but failed on that one moment when it mattered most. That day I stopped believing in the so called phenomenon of being fortunate. She never forgave me for that, but then I left the mark. That was the only necessary…he he. She too gave me good writing. I guess I was really a good student (OMG!) .But cogito,Ergo sum.

My train was at 9:30 PM, I left the college at around 7:30. Few of my juniors came to see me off. Alvida they said. Come to Chennai, we will have a blast, I screamed from the tempo waving my hands madly. It was very foggy and rear window of the tempo was not that clean. Vision was getting hazy and before I could comprehend everything became a far far away land. In the station ,I knew nobody. There was a time when it would be difficult to find somebody else other than the guys from the college. But today I was a stranger, a stranger in my own backyard. Just when train was about to leave I got a call . Gandu calling….
Hello, Mein Allahabad mein hoon……Has anything changed? He asked.

The train had already started to move.

Retrospection & resolutions

Umm... Can I tame the present to shape a better future ? May be yes. My grey cells were howling to get that "synaptic knob" which held the key to my present and future. 5 minutes of juggling from one unfinished thought to another , which felt like eternity , i stumbled on my resolutions of previous year. I had four resolutions.

1. To read one book per week - My total tally for last year is 53 one more than the expected.

2. To propose the girl i loved(tense is important!) - I did, unfortunately her resolution for 2007 was to say no to all the guys .

3. To learn a foriegn language - ich liebe deutsche.

4. To learn Violin - I figured where to study, now thats what i call progress.

Even though not a good year ,from the above statics it seems that i did have a great year.

Now itself, I have started to miss 2007.But then i know time wont wait for me, it never did.

Auf Wierdesehn 2007.

The convergence completed, i had my resolutions for 2008.

1. This will be my last new year in India - No its not Houdini act that i am going to disappear.

2. To learn Violin - I would do my solo before the year end.

3. I would take the photograph of a woman(not nude!) having an absolute black hair with a streak of white running from the forehead - i would name it Spes,after the Greek Goddess of Hope.

I know I dont have the power over my future but i do have the control over my present. Living in the present i would make 2008 good year(Dont count that a resolution!).

Happy new year!