More About Life and Shit

It started slowly.Like the rays of the sun slowly kissing the hem of darkness and slowly blending into the fabric of time and space to concoct a altogether new entity- a change, a change to which you are forced to adjust no matter what. Only its sometimes hard to tell the dawn from the dusk specially if you have not really been paying attention to what was that had you besieged in the prior space (or time, but then space and time are interchangeable as some wild haired German guy with his tongue sticking out, would have us believe or maybe I just got that wrong but being from an elite academic background or atleast believing that you do, has a compulsive character of forcing you into such statements and holding your ground defiantly).

But then where was I? Yes. It started slowly. Like the end of a tablecloth catching fire from the last embers of a burning cigarette placed there by a mindless idiot who cant hear the cotton cringe as it burned itself to death. Not many care for the cotton you know; it is one of those things that PETA doesnt cover cause it is not alive enough for them or for some other group of those famous-would-like-to get-naked-with-nice-body-paint-on-our-body groups to care about. Though I must tell you those PETA guys have some good photos in their gallery. I must remember to do something like that when I grow up. Grow up. Thats a good way of procrastinating things. Its a simple trick we learn as kids to dream of becoming drivers of UFOs and hoping to get there somehow in the end. Most end up as UFO's (Unidentified Fucked-up Objects) but then thats a close miss. And when I say I want to be like that when I grow up I dont mean like the models, no I have too much hair in the wrong places for that (and maybe I am missing some other nuances too), no I mean like I wanna become like Hugh Hefner. And damn that girl who refused to marry him in the end- she has got some balls!!(maybe the reason why she refused in the first place but on second thoughts we should have seen them in the earlier editions of Playboy but then there is photoshop too..you never know anything for sure these days).Its good to dream.It gives you a reason.
But then it all starts slowly; a flash to a conflagration, an egg to a dinosaur or an omlette(okay maybe the omlette isnt as big as a dino still it is bigger than the egg).
You just have to keep hoping that it is the dawn not the dusk-maybe hoodwinking yourself but then thats ok-its called Choice.
So there.
PS: If the above doesnt make much sense to the sane maybe it is not for them or maybe because there isnt any there but then thats open to debate. Your chalk may be my cheese. But then enough with the disputable choice of arrangement of words and sentences. Bonjour.(Incidentally a folder in most of your C:/Programs folder too, a mere passing thought , thats all). But then bonjour is Hello ,isnt it?, but maybe thats what I mean , I dint say Hello before ,did I?

IITB

Mumbai. My first love. You can call my school my first crush.After all that age is all about crushes, isnt it?The Campus - my very own Katrina Kaif. I specially loved the odd semesters. After a three month break I would be raring to go back to my own paradise. And the rains. I loved the rains. The first week of the semester- the cool wind blowing with a calm soothing touch to your face,the speakers filling up the room with the titillating tunes of "Nayan Tarse",a few drops of rain coming in from the windows-the whole blend gave me the high of a joint. No doubt I have abused the rains many a times for coming down the moment i stepped out for classes and drenching me to the bone but all that is easily forgotten and forgiven. Standing out in the wing allowing drops of cold water to to trickle down my face in thin streams brought an amazing calm to the mind, erasing all other thoughts. I never really grew tired of the incessent drizzle which often drove others nuts.(one of the reasons might be that I just stayed in my room or in the hostel enjoying the weather without having to worry about going out or anything - one of the many luxuries our dear old campus and iit curriculum allows us). I hope next weekend it will rain in mumbai when i am there.
Talking about the campus how can i not mention those awesome people who made life so much fun that just remembering their faces brings a stupid grin on my face. The campus is like a huge pot of khichdi with loads of vegetables and stuff; there are all kinds of genres of people available here, some to laugh at, some to laugh with and others for their own idiosyncracies. It is the people you get to laugh,live and learn with who really make life so freaking awesome. leaving them behind as life takes you apart is not the easiest thing to do for any of us. But the show goes on and you must come up with your philosophies to make all this bearable and even enjoyable. My own personal philosophy is - there will always be something worth to look forward to - u just have to look out for it. Moreover just knowing that these guys are out there and will never really forget you you feel more confident about going out and experiencing the new. Calling these people just friends doesnt really do justice to the nature of the relationship- they are more than just that -they are the makers of the best four years of my life and my greatest support.These are the people I have sat guffawing with in lectures, making lewd comments/jokes/cartoons and sharing every painful or weird thoughts with. These are the guys who know my strengths and weaknesses better than me myself and whom I adore more than anything. I could never really be sad with these guys around- the reason i could keep on smiling even during my valfi. See you all next week. :) tab tak ke liye izazat dijiye.

Munaf ka Bat

What is the deal with Munaf Patel's bat?Understandably his bat has no sponsor stickers on them but why does he walk out with a bare piece of wood without any kind of embellishment whatsoever? He is a world class player and one would expect that his bank balance would allow the lad to buy some branded bats like maybe kookaburra or atleast reebok- instead he walks in with a stick which perhaps his mom used to beat clothes with and gave it to the young turk when he made a ruckus for a bat at home.