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Sunday, January 30, 2011

A friendly smile

While you are a fresher, everything around looks very fresh. It did to me too, in a very literal sense. The building was fresh, as it was still under construction. The walls looked fresh, for they were yet to be plastered. Even the floors were raw and fresh. And amidst all the freshness, in harmony with not just nature but cement, bricks and sand we had our classes! It had been a week since college began. I was being my usual reserved self, maintaining a healthy distance from all my classmates. They were equally hesitant in making any attempt to converse with me. Either they thought I’m too arrogant and proud or were afraid that I wouldn’t be knowing enough Tamil to talk with them(they were all dumbstruck to learn that I was more comfortable in talking English than Tamil). I of course prefer the latter.

In the sea of reluctant faces, there was one face that stood out. She had a round face with wide black eyes and a small smile playing around her lips. Everything about her radiated warmth. Be it her black eyes, that were deep and harbored a mischievous glint or her sweet smile that never left her lips, everything spoke the language of friendliness and welcome.

On our first laboratory class, we stood shoulder to shoulder, head bowed down in shame, fidgeting our wrists and fearfully facing our lecturer with our incomplete observations. The only one among the rest of the class. So many emotions were raging inside our heart, but the predominant emotion was relief. We were relieved to have each other. The humiliation seemed more tolerable when I had someone to share it with and the relief was profound when our lecturer having done with her reprimands and warnings, turned her back on us. I turned towards her, a timid smile trying to escape my lips before I could stop. Her answering smile was brilliant. The seed of a lifelong friendship was sowed deep in both our hearts, and we are nurturing it with all the care and love we could give it, smiling our way through thick and thin like that first time.

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Mystery Man - part II

Disclaimer: I only own mystery man, the whole article was written by a friend of mine.

There's this guy I met about a month ago. He was kinda mysterious. It may be just me, but I feel he's beyond anyone's wildest nightmares! He always has a cloak-and-dagger look in his eyes, that it can freak anyone out.

He is ridiculously tall, and pitch black. I mean, when he is standing in the dark, one cannot figure out where he is standing. His hands, also ridiculously long, and his style of walking, are the centrrs of everybody's attention. His constantly shifting eyes miss out nothing. His alluring smile (like that of a vampire) and wisecracks hypnotise his listeners. And to top it all, he is psychic! He has the knack of catching you when you happen to be in the wrong place and wrong time, even if you were doing nothing harmful. He materialises behind you (which is enough to freak anyone out) just when you crack a joke about him. But, he thinks he's so cool and wise, that he lets you go scotfree after he catches you doing something wrong. He wants everyone to know that "they're being watched"! It's more than enough to drive any sane person crazy. I keep looking over my shoulder everytime I think of him, because I'm scared that he might hear my thoughts too. It might look absurd, but it could also be possible. He has instilled such terror in everyone, that it runs like blood in the veins. Steadily running through your body, searching for weak spots that can be taken down.

But, apparently, there's nothing to fear about him, as he says. I must reluctantly agree that it is true, He is never harsh, and seldom loud. His words are like butter on bread. Soft, caressing, velvety. He never punishes you for anything, but he has that smug all-knowing look in his eyes. He stares into your eyes, probing your mind, scanning your soul, making you feel as though spiders are crawling up your back.

He thinks he is funny. He is calculative, and creative. Cunning, though I hope not criminal. He may not be daring, but shrewd and sharp. He reminds one not of the brave lion, but of the cunning fox. He doesn't draw attention, which probably suits his purposes. He is so sneaky that he is invisible to the superficial eyes. He has an air of dark mystery around him, which forces you to break through his indestructible barrier of smugness. He is the mystery man, confusing you with his eyes, hypnotising you with his smile, luring you with his words and leaving you confused about your past, present and future!

Wednesday, November 17, 2010


There was a time, when we all were together, under the same roof, breathing the same air, sharing the same room and listening to the same teacher droning on and on about some complex calculus theory day after day. To us it was all rubbish, meaningless and trivial.

We might have shared the same roof, room and even the same bench but never the same feelings. We were all different in every humanly way possible. There wasn’t one shred of similarity that bound us together. To tell the truth, we were never bound together, at least not in a way which justified the literal meaning of the word bound.

We fought with each other, yelled at each other, held grudges for so long that by the end of it we forgot why we have been holding them for so long. There were people who hated each other with a passion beyond anybody’s wildest imagination and there were couples who loved or at least pretended to love each other beyond the aforementioned imagination. While on one hand somebody would be doing everything in their power to gain some trust , on the other hand some one would be nursing a bad betrayal. While there were people who craved for attention like oxygen, and did get plenty in return, others avoided it like the plague. We were just some forty odd kids, put together by some misjudgment of the heavens. Forty dangerous specimens, devil’s own limited edition. But amidst all our differences, we were all similar in some bizarre way that leaves me completely baffled even now. Its like we were puppets, each one unique and different from other, but danced to the same tunes just like others. The problem though was, we never learnt to dance to any other tune.

For almost a year now, I have been wondering why I don’t fit in in my college. And I did come up with plenty of reasons, each one sounding more unlikely than before. Later I learnt that its not just me, but all of US feel that way. Not even people who waited a year to get into the course and college of their choice could manage to blend in well with the crowd. Each of them has a different reason, but the bottom line is – “College is fun, but school was better”.

It wasn’t until one cloudy afternoon, in conversation with one such person did I come up with my epiphany. It goes something like this...

“It does not matter if you like your college or not, you like your course or detest it. It doesn’t matter if you have waited one or two or even five years to go to the college of your choice and pursue your dream course. What matters is that in your college, inside your classroom, sharing the same roof, breathing the same air, listening to the droning of the teacher will never be them. And unless it is them, you are never going to fit in anywhere you go.”

You never understand the value of something until you lose it, and once you have lost you’ll never get it back. At that time we never knew what we would be missing when we would move out of our safe little haven called school. Or may be we did, but really cared less about it. But now after having tasted the world outside our haven, or rather heaven, I would trade anything to go back.

Promises of “Friends for ever” and “Keep in touch until pigs fly” sound pretty absurd to me, when all I want is to be a part of their memories as someone who would be missed, be it in a good or bad way, until the very end of their life as they would be missed by me.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

The Mystery Man..

I met someone a month ago, who is still a mystery to me. I may not be very good at figuring out people. But this man is beyond anybody’s comprehension. He is so bloody intriguing at times, that it is creepy.

He is tall, dark and handsome. His long hands and perfect stride catches everybody’s attention. His black and bewitching eyes misses nothing. His alluring smile and witty words mesmerizes his listeners. And to top it all he is omnipresent. He has a knack of catching you at the wrong time and wrong place, correctly. He appears out of thin air behind your back exactly when you are cracking a joke about him. Unlike everybody else, he catches you at your wrong act and lets you go free without any punishment. The bottom line is ‘You are being watched!’. It is more than enough to drive you crazy. I have been watching my back every time I even think of him, afraid that he might somehow hear my thoughts too. Absurd, I know but he instigates such terror. The fear of him is so deeply etched into your mind, its like the blood in your veins. You don’t always feel it, but its there. Steadily running through your body, becoming a part and parcel of you.

But there is nothing to fear about him, or so he says. True. He is never harsh. He is hardly ever loud. The words flow from his mouth like the way you spread butter on your bread. Soft, caressing and velvety. He never punishes you for anything, but the warning can be seen in his eyes. He stares into your eyes, probing your mind, scanning your soul, making you feel naked and vulnerable.

He is funny, calculative and creative. Cunning but not criminal. He may not be daring, but shrewd and sharp. He is never in the lime light, but hangs in the background watching every action silently. He is so silent that he is almost invisible to the superficial eyes. He is unfathomable, which pushes you to unravel the mystery around him. The more we rack our brains, the more puzzling he is. He is the mystery man, intriguing you with his eyes, attracting you with his smile, luring you with his words and leaving you puzzled about your past, present and future!

Monday, August 16, 2010

A Friend Who Turned Into A Stranger

It's great when strangers become friends , but shocking how those friends become strangers again.. strange but true....it happened to me too.

We weren’t best of friends before, never had been and I don’t think ever will be. We weren’t the kind of friends who shared and cared. We have always fought with each other, hurled insults at each other at every opportunity. Teased and criticized each other with no mercy. God knows how many times we had plotted each others murder, in the most gruesome ways known to mankind. Yet we were friends, in a weird twisted sort of way. We were friends, and didn’t even realize it. We helped each other without ever being aware of it. Beneath all the hatred, I trusted him and he trusted me. And with that trust came the bond of friendship. A bond which was invisible even to us for the entire time we were together.

But after a year of not talking and not missing each other, one day our paths crossed unexpectedly. Yet it wasn’t the clash of titans, which I had envisioned. It was a void. Emptiness engulfed us so tightly, that we simple committed ourselves to being silent. We were so used to insulting each other, that when asked to be friendly and normal we could only remain silent and distant. We were strangers to each other.

Our squabbles from yesterday may seem childish and immature, but they bound us together through a thin thread of friendship. We grew up and grew out of our childishness, effectively breaking the golden thread of connection between us.

Nothing has changed for us. We are still the same person we were a year before. He is still the same guy with his silly sense of humor, and I am the same girl with my stupid sarcasm. But everything between us has changed. He no more uses his sense of humor to tease me, nor do I use my sarcasm to criticize him.

We were foes yesterday, quarreling and arguing over absurdly trivial things, but hung on to a loose strand of friendship.

We are not foes anymore neither are we friends. The golden cord of friendship between us is lost in the crowd, never to be found again. For now WE are STRANGERS.

Monday, August 02, 2010

Fighting For Rights..The Gandhiyan Way

Nothing was new today morning. I woke up with the usual Monday blues, college makes my Monday more sober than anything. I went about my routines and by 8.55 a.m., I was at the gate of my college. And guess what? The entire male population of the college was standing outside the college. it appeared like they were having a reunion of some sorts,but no. Apparently they all were planning to go on strike. And we didn’t even knew. Figures!

        And the strike was exactly the Gandhian way...no breaking of glasses, no shouting of profanities, no banners or posters or rallies or burning the buses. All of the girls were even allowed into the college. The fun began inside. The Jhansi Rani-s of our college decided that its time we do something productive too. They all paraded out of the college, followed by a few of the stupid and courageous second years. Only to be dragged back in by the staffs. The timid and sensible girls stayed inside. Waiting for the right time, I guess. Only the right time never came. The funniest part was that all the boys were already inside the college. The girls were unaware of this. They marched out with an intention to join them, I suppose. I could never find the real motive.

The guys came to each of our classes and requested us to join them. We tried, but we were blocked again. We didn’t knew where the actual protesting was going on. Or rather for what they are protesting. Trust me, I knew the demands of the strike only by mid day. By then the college announced holidays until further intimation of reopening was given. I guess this is what is called a turmoil. I was all anxious about my unfinished record works this morning, and now I don’t know when the college will reopen. I am still not sure if this is a good thing or bad. The worst part is that, I am not sure if I will participate in the strike. Does that make me cowardly or sensible?? I am yet to find the answers...


Thursday, July 22, 2010

I'm a Klutz with a capital K!!

I haven’t updated in 2 weeks (I had no idea, until one of my friends was kind enough to point this out). Apart from being so busy that I’m practically disabled.... I didn’t have anything to write about. Even today I don’t have anything much, but to keep my journal *ahem* *ahem* alive, I’m posting today. So I thought today I will enlighten you more about me.

Clumsiness is one of the best words to describe me. Call it my brilliance or others blindness, people don’t often associate clumsy to me. I will give u a few instances that prove that I deserve to be a strong contender on the list of top klutz in the world.

This one is very recent. It actually happened today. We had our annual award function today (with no music or dance or anything remotely cultural or colourful, I might as well add, so that you don’t get the wrong picture ;-)). I won the first prize in an elocution competition. I don’t think you can call it a prize because a) there were a total of six contenders. b) out of all of them I was the only one who spoke for 6 minutes. Anyway, that’s besides the point. So my name was called. I was pre-warned that the stage is a temporary one (a bunch of writing desks were put together that was covered with a rug) so I might want to be extra careful while climbing. The rug wasn’t smooth either. So there was 100 % chance of me tripping and falling. I trip on my own foot and fall down on a perfectly smooth, flat surface. So this dais was a killer in my eyes. I was careful not to step too hard on the bench and not to trip on the rug. Plus I had to remember to smile. With all these pre-occupation I climbed up and made it to the dignitaries without any major mishap. When the chief guest handed over the shield, he wasn’t really looking where he was giving. Neither was I. I some how managed to hold onto my certificate, but dropped the shield. My slow reflexes kicked in and I tried to grab it before it hit the floor. That was probably a very big mistake. The shield slipped from my hands a second time, as though it was being pulled away from me by a repulsive force. It hit on my knees and ricocheted. After a chaotic 30 seconds, in which I was groping around everybody’s legs and the dignitaries looking nervously around as though expecting a rat to jump up into their pants, I finally found the damn thing lodged in between my principal’s legs. Amidst raucous laughing and heightened embarrassment I finally walked down the dais without falling. My great achievement of not falling down on a dangerously slippery surface was marred by the debacle of prize receiving.

The other day, there was a power shut down at my place since morning. That meant the inverter was drained out. I had assignments and 4 test the following day. So I decided to go downstairs (I live in the first floor and my grand parents stay in the ground floor) and do my work. The inverter there still had some power left in it and I decided to use it to my benefit. It was dark of course, and I didn’t know that the staircase was wet and slippery. Apparently my sister had spilled water and she never bothered to clean up. I was loaded with books and stationary and wasn’t looking where I was walking. As u would have guessed I slipped and went down the flight of stairs. The funniest and weirdest part was that it took me almost a couple of minutes to realise that I have fallen down. One second I was upright and then the next I was tumbling down and finally found myself at the foot of the stairs. I had a badly broken ankle and even managed to scrap my knees. Needless to say I took leave the next day and faced hell at college. My parents a re still amazed at my ability to fall down at will. My friends think I’m hilarious. And I think I’m a Klutz with a capital K!!

These are just a few real life experiences of mine that I thought would make you all laugh. Its always best to poke fun at yourself rather that give a chance to others. 


Tuesday, July 13, 2010

The Twist in the birthday

This is isn’t anything big. I just celebrated my birthday. Only it was a surprise celebration planned by three of my very good friends. They payed an unannounced visit to my house and we had a good time chatting and teasing each other. I got a call or a message from most people that I expected to remember my birthday. I got a few gifts too. The best one was from my brother like friend who gave me a book title 50 reasons why girls are awesome. Its a facts book that high light how much women have contributed to the society. He isn’t much of a book person, but when he came across that book, it apparently reminded him of me. And so he thought birthday would be perfect occasion to gift it to me. Anyway, I wasn’t planning much for my birthday. But it always feels good to get a surprise on your special day!

Sunday, July 04, 2010

The Dancing Me!


Looong time no see.... So here I'm with nothing very exciting, but some happy snaps and some not-so-happy incidents. As is the procedure, I'll get on with the not-so-happy incidents.
First of all college started. So yeah, now I am in second year of the wretched engineering course, on the upside I’M A SENIOR NOW and one year of purgatory is over. On the downside, there is still three more years left. Also the second year syllabus is damn tough. I almost fainted glancing at the syllabus and course plan. And to add to the burden there are new rules in the college. Like, we, the students, should have the detailed course plan written neatly in our class work notes. We’ll be given tutorial sheets for every unit for which internal marks will be allotted. There are five unit tests, that need to be compulsorily conducted. And of course no holidays or even half working days on Saturdays.

Seriously though, what do I have to do with the course plan? Its for the staffs’ convenience. Its kind of their timetable. We spent the first day of college writing those stupid course plans for all seven periods.

It doesn’t stop their either. For this second year, I’m the CLASS REPRESENTATIVE (CR). And no this is not something of which I’m proud. I detest being a CR, not because I don’t like responsibilities or duties or any thing. I’m not exactly new to all these. I have my own fair shares of being a class monitor at school. May be I should make it more clear, I detest being a CR in this college. I can shoulder all responsibilities and stuffs, its the scoldings that I can’t seem to take it with a closed mouth. But I guess I need to get on with it and make the most of it while I can. Of course the possibilities seem quite dull to me too.

And then the syllabus of this semester. Its specifically designed to kill us, slowly, in the most torturous way possible. Well there can be no other explanation for having three papers solely dedicated to mathematics. I just can’t believe that god could hate me to this extent! May be this what they call serving the karma.

So on to the happy incidents. I DANCED yesterday....after a looooong time too, I might add. And it felt great to perform. And JIPMER auditorium is a treat for any performer. But yesterday, it wasn’t that good, especially the lighting. I’ll upload a few snaps of those happy moments! 

 Yeah, I know some of the snaps aren't very good. Blame it either on the poor lighting of the auditorium or the poor zooming capacity of my digital camera! Either way, I'm not at fault.

Thursday, June 03, 2010

Stressed when spelled backwards is Desserts!

Its been a long and stressful week, not taking into account today. For today is worser of all because I am down with a terrible head ache on top of all other stresses. In a nut shell the past one week was one of the worst weeks of this year, but also filled with shocking surprises. Let me get over with the worser parts first, I’ll save the surprises for the end.

To begin with, my model exams are over. And no it isn’t a happy news, firstly because it was crappy, secondly because I don’t have study leave. I failed by mere 3 marks in chemistry and hence I was denied study leave. We tried everything from force to tears (force was from my side and tears were from my friends) but our principal was as immovable as the Himalayas. I even made my dad go and talk to him, but he wouldn’t budge. And after much discussion, we decided that we would attend the first day of the class and then take leave for the rest of the days. I came to know that the boys are altogether bunking all classes. That gave me a tiny hope. The management cannot punish the whole lot of 88 students (yeah, that’s the strength of the first years counting all four departments). So with that small consolation, groaning and grumbling to myself I went to college on the first day of my study leave. To my horror all of the boys had turned up. I was – flabbergasted, there is just no other word for it. Talk about chivalry. Shooting daggers at the boys we braced ourselves for the four hour torture that was named mathematics. The boys all looked quite confused to be getting so many glowering looks from us but they ignored it nonetheless and payed rapt attention to the class. That riled me up even more. Half of them don’t attend regular classes properly, and now here they sit like they are the most obedient students and that some how their life depends on the mindless babbling of the maths lecturer.

The after noon was dedicated to chemistry class. The morning was too much for me and I had neither the strength nor the patience for enduring three hours of chemistry. So all of us girls packed our stuffs and made our way back home. And to add to our dismay, the guys had brought their lunch and were planning to attend the afternoon session. Thanks to my infinite patience, I didn’t murder them. But later in the evening I got to know that the guys, after taking their lunch packed up too. Apparently they can’t wait for lunch until they reach home. And no matter what, they follow the college timings to the letter when it comes to food.

So after one week of running up and down from principal’s room to my HOD’s room and to every other staff in the college, finally here I am bunking my coaching classes, completely unaware of its consequences. But it feels good, you know, doing something against the college. It feels good to be able to oppose them, though I am not sure if I would feel equally good when I have to face the consequences of my action.

So moving on, on the last day of May I attended the valedictory function of a summer intensive course that was conducted at my dance class. It was also sort of a farewell gesture, to one of my Best friends and co-student, who is moving to Delhi for pursuing higher studies. Incidentally she came first in the Pondicherry Matriculation 10th examination with a Himalayan score of 493 marks. She is an excellent dancer and obviously very good at academics. The weird part of the function was, after she was honored with a memento most of the people started crying. Even one of our teachers started crying, it seemed as though everyone was crying except for me. And I am supposed to be her Best friend, even her teacher* of sorts. Of course, I don’t deny that I would miss her. I would miss her like hell, nothing would be half as interesting without her around. There wouldn’t be any competition, I would be missing one of my first and finest students*. But some how my tear ducts did not react to these emotions. Thankfully, she knows me too well to expect me to cry. Even when she was soaking my dress with her salty tears, she was perfectly fine with me not returning the gesture. Man, ain’t I glad to have people like that as friends. People who are sane enough to understand that I don’t react the same way they do to all the situations.

Now to the surprises part. I am chosen as the Best Girl at my aforementioned dance class. Technically, its a premier institution for yoga and performing arts, but I learn only dance there and so I keep calling it just dance class. But that's besides the point. The point is that I am their new Best Girl. Best Girl for the year 2009-10. My first reaction when I heard this news was plain shock, with a very thin thread of relief. Relief for being given Best Girl and not boy. Believe me, I have very good reasons and plausible explanations for that. I have been learning dance for the past 8 years or so. I have performed in all of their major products every year since i joined there. And after the first one time, where I played the role of a wife of a sage, I was never trusted with any female role. Up until now, I have played a wide range of roles in various dances, ranging from lord Krishna to lord Shiva to a farmer to king Dhuryodhana. I have been mightily applauded for all these roles, the roles that all but stole the little feminine grace that I was blessed with. This award has actually acknowledged my femininity, and I am immensely thankful to all my teachers for choosing me for this award.

I actually learnt that I am getting this award through the annual report that was mailed to me. I was totally speechless, I double checked and triple checked with everyone I know. I had a very bad feeling that this was some cruel practical joke played on me. I couldn’t be getting this award, I simply don’t deserve it. I confessed my doubts to my teacher, mentor would describe him better. He assured me that it was true and that I deserve it. That, coming from him was a great honor. I was astonished when I heard many of my friends echo the same sentiment. I have been wondering all week, why I felt quite ill at ease to be receiving this award. I finally arrived at an answer. It is because I am not used to people appreciating me for my job. I am so used to being hated by everyone, this sudden love and affection and even trust surprises and shocks me. I am so used to being denied credits for all my works, that this sudden acknowledgment staggers me. But now I am just ecstatic, exhilarated, jubilant....well my English vocabulary seems poorly stocked for describing how I feel. So that’s all for this week, my exams are looming dangerously close in the horizon, I better go and prepare for them.

* We once performed a dance drama that portrayed the life of the Mythical Mahabharata king, Karna. In that drama, I played the role of Lord Krishna and she was Arjuna. According to the story the characters shared a teacher student relationship. And hence from then on she started addressing me as her teacher and I was more than happy to embrace her as my student.

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