It’s kind of sad when people around you leave, literally. It’s even more sad when the realization comes that your own deeds makes you stand in this momentarily terrible situation. I screwed up my life. My previous semester had been a disaster, with four arrears in my hands and an unnerving pain in my heart. Two back papers were expected, but the other two – labs – were never expected. It was a shock to see that I’d failed in the Mini Project. There was output and the requested modification implemented, thought not fully. It would be worthless talking about the B.Tech evaluation of University of Kerala. And more to that, this time it was pathetic. Worse, it was subjective, biased, as far as many of us believe and it is in fact evident. The guys who performed in the other lab exam at par with others in their corresponding batch got varying results. It was an unrealistic pattern, a strange distribution of marks unexpected by most of us. I’m no judge here, but getting a meager 35 out of 100 in Mini Project is disastrous, especially when the examiner fails to award even the bare minimum passing marks (40/100) for something which is your own creation. Who is the judge here?
With the plenty of arrears to my credit, there was one more issue. It is said that with every problem one faces, there will be something that gives a quantum of solace. But, apparently not in my case. I had applied for CAT 2009 (Common Admission Test) and all of my friends and I had booked the slot on 6th December – the last Sunday of the online CAT test window – at Calicut. Everyone unanimously selected this date hoping our seventh semester University exams to end before CAT. And it did. When the exam schedule was out, the regular seventh semester exams ended way before December even started but one of my back papers from sixth semester came exactly on the 7th of December- the very next day to CAT. And by the time, the final date to make changes to the CAT online slots had ended. How fucked up can that be. Another MBA entrance exam I had applied for was IIFT, which fell on the eve of ‘Internetworking’ exam of seventh semester. I could have attended it; if only I could get over the fear of arrear instilled in me. I never wanted to get a back paper this semester and decided to stay back here, when my friends who all applied for IIFT left for Kochi.
I hardly had got over this loss when the date for CAT was nearing. There was a hustle all around me, friends furious about CAT, talking, bunking classes to prepare for CAT. The CAT test centre all of us had chosen was Calicut. Some for convenience went home earlier cutting classes, who stayed near Calicut. Others were leaving every other day. The saddest part was that I was there to see each of them leave. Close friends were getting anxious of the exam, and I was providing emotional support. Tension, anxiety and even illnesses were gripping everyone. And my closest friends resorted to me. I did the best I could to keep them going, motivate them, drive them, even before a day before the online test. My clock was ticking; every second getting closer to my dreaded back paper – Theory of Computation – on the 7th December. And I was still consoling and encouraging my confused best friends.
One more bolt out of the blue, my Computer Networks lab exam got scheduled on the same 7th. I was getting confused and couldn’t focus on anything. I had already opted out CAT and now suddenly I had to make another decision, a situation where I had no choice. I had to go for both my arrear and my lab. I went around asking friends to swap my lab date with those who were scheduled on 9th or 10th December. The first one whom I asked agreed to exchange dates with me in case I never found anyone else to, and after my search, I finally wound with her- Lina. None of them whom I asked were willing to do the exam on the first day in the schedule. I finally got my exam rescheduled and that was settled.
Today – 5th December
5 am. I was woken up by Vinit’s call in my cell. I had agreed to drop him somewhere where another friend, who will be accompanying him, would be waiting. He was to leave early and it would be hard to find conveyance. We both set out on the bike and reached the place. After a word with her, and wishing her luck, I found an auto rickshaw and the two of them got in. They shook hands with me and asked me “to study”. As the auto was leaving, Vinit said “you could have come too”. That was the instant a thunder struck me inside my chest – the realization that I never would be able to now. As the auto drove past me, I found myself standing lone and lost in the darkness filling me inside and outside. The world around me stood still. For a few seconds I froze. I waited till they took a U-turn and once again sped past me, going away from me - the last two in the pack to leave.
I gathered myself back and started the bike. There were barely any vehicles on the road. It was just me now. As I was speeding back to hostel, my eyes welled and a tiny tear rolled down the corner of my eye…
Friday, December 4, 2009
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Odd One Out
Their silent but meaningful grins of accomplishment, taking advantage and exploiting the moments you once thought was your own. They do exactly the things that you despise them to do in your presence. At the situation when you can neither pretend to not see nor flee. You have to see, not just see, but live through every moment. Every second. It seems to last forever. For me. I’m still in the frame. But I’m typing. I don’t have a laptop, so I type in my cell. Hell. Yes, you’ve won. I knew you would "kid". And I lost. But not for long. I won’t stay lost for eternity. I’ll just drop everything and leave. You can take ‘everything’. I don’t need fake things. A chameleon who adapts so easily. A figure that easily fits into any frame way better than any known camouflage. Know what, it’s cool to watch you change, to fix in, to adapt, to adjust and be that. A jigsaw piece that can always be the last piece in position. How perfect! It stings. But it’s OK. Change is the only constant thing. I will too, if not change, adapt. Just a matter of time and it will be no more. Another page turned in my book of forgotten history, not memories. Those pages, that book, will never be revisited. I won’t. You may one day. But that day, it’ll be in ashes, at least for me…
Saturday, September 12, 2009
The Number 21
12-09-09
For those of you who have watched the film The Number 23, this post might seem to be an exaggeration of the events in the film. But actually, this one is no adaptation of that movie, nor am I anyone like the character Topsy Kretts. But the central point about this post revolves around a number, just like in the movie. Its true I had been haunted by the number 21 long before I even saw the movie. I saw the film just a month back, but I was deeply provoked to write up about my story. In fact it’s not a story. It’s just an account of instances where the number 21 had been ‘following’ me. Even when I am about to start exhuming the experiences I’ve had with this number, my fingers tremble. There’s a cold chill down my spine just thinking that I am actually writing about this.
For most of the first experiences I’ve had with this number, I took them as mere coincidences. But later when things happened to unravel, the occurrence of this number and its impact on me seemed to be obvious. I even got so obsessed with this number that I looked for a twenty-one in every numerical encounter I had, may it be the license plate of my car, my credit card PIN number, my cell phone number, everything. I added or subtracted the digits of the numbers to see if they made up to a 21. At this point, for those of you who feel I’m eccentric, I say just fuck off. The others may continue reading. This is no story, no piece of exaggerated figments of imagination, no day dreaming. It’s about my life.
The most striking thing that I noticed is that the occurrence of the number 21 is meaningful. If I look for and ‘mine’ for this number, I don’t find it. But it persists. I could see it. 21 came out to light only when I looked back. I could not find it when I searched for it, but it came to me. For instance, just as I’m writing this post, it struck me that I am 21 years old. Why didn’t I write about this last year? Or maybe four months back, when I was only 20? I was born on the 12th of May. Twelve is 21 reversed. These two instances just sprouted up in my mind. I never thought of the date 12th otherwise. Seeing such a peculiar pattern, I tried to add the digits of my complete DOB, but couldn’t find any 21. If I dig for it I don’t find it, but it appears very cleverly!
The occurrences got more frequent, or maybe that’s cuz I was preoccupied with it that I expected a 21 in everything I did or thought of. Let me tell you about a recent instance. It happened less than a month ago. 15th of August to be exact. It is the day of Indian Independence and we had programs at college. As I got to college, there was a quiz going on and three of my friends were attending it. They called me to join them. Sajna and Rasmi had the answer sheets. Prashant was teaming with Sajna and Rasmi asked me to join her (apparently to help her in a History Quiz- my most loathed subject!). The questions were projected onto the white board and she asked me to give her the answers. I saw she hadn’t answered a question and the question was to give the year in which something had happened (I don’t exactly remember the question). As the final bell rang, I told her the answer could be 1921. I said it with the 21 in mind. She was dubious and did not write the answer I suggested. Finally the answers were being read out and the answer to that particular question turned out to be 1921. I just looked up at the board and was stunned to see that it was the answer to the 12th question. I had till that second, not noticed that it was the 12th question. This is no lie. At this point, if you don’t trust me, Rasmi is a witness. You can abandon this and still leave if you feel I’m being ridiculous, cuz I don’t give a fuck. Period.
This is how it all began. I started noticing the number 21 when it appeared twice or thrice in a same particular context. It was when I was watching a film on HBO that I first noticed this strange thing. I don’t remember which film it was, but the shot goes something like this- a man (an investigator in disguise) comes to a Hospital office and demands to see the mortuary. He is turned down, who goes on to bribe the keeper of the mortuary and gains access. The man asks the number of the compartment in which the particular dead body is kept. I, out of random told myself it is 21. The next second the mortuary keeper replies the man “its 21”. This prediction of mine did not in fact fascinate me back then. I was just thrilled that ‘I predicted it was coming’. But when a similar circumstance occurred and I again predicted the number 21 in some other TV program, even before the person answered, I again turned out to be right. It was then that I first actually noticed the number. At first I thought it was just a déjà vu. But later on it was turning out to be reality.
The next little story I am about to say might seem illogical for at least a few. Having had this thought of the number 21 for quite some time, this might seem like a lie. There was a recent room shuffling in my hostel and I was shifted to room number 28. It was just a month back that I actually happened to notice that the room in which I had been staying for the past one and a half years was Room Number 21. During my long stay in that room, I never even for once bothered about the number of my room, which is so well painted onto the wooden door- the painted label that I saw every day umpteen number of times, the number which I wrote down on the plenty leave application forms every time I went home, the number which was written down in the hostel fee receipt every month. Now you might feel that merely staying in one particular room, with a particular stupid number, is just a coincidence. I agree. But this room gave me a lot. It took me through everything, this room shaped me. In fact it changed me to the man I was not. I went through all of the dull things while my stay in this room. Now looking back, it’s all the past. But room number 21 was the saddest room- for me. I had stayed in 5 other rooms in the same hostel, but 21 was not at all like any of them. For once when I first moved in to 21, I thought it was the brightest room in OCSC. It is true in the literary sense that it had ample sunlight. But with the passage of time, it got darker and darker. Eventually I hated to even enter my room. I came in only to sleep at night. I either spent time in Prashant’s room or Deepu’s. I had a PC in my room, but I was never interested. My friends teased me, mocked me and took me as an outcast because I would sit with them watching them stick on to their desktops and laptops. They would say “…Anup has a PC of his own, but still he doesn’t play on that. He wouldn’t install any games on his own PC, but accompanies (or in their sarcastic sense ‘disturb’) everyone else…No one knows what Anup has got in his PC, cuz he doesn’t let anyone near it…Anup is a loner…Anup is self-occupied…Anup is a pessimist…Anup is cynical…paranoid…” For a while a dear friend of mine even christened me “Moody Anup”. I tasted everything while in this room- love, hatred, anger, compassion, accusations, allegations, even the slightest peccadilloes were converted to criminal acts and breaches of trust by my closest of pals. Protecting one’s interest transformed into cheating on another, in the latter’s perspective. There are only three people in my life who called me a ‘cheater’. And all of them branded me that beautiful attribution while I was in 21. One of them went to the extent of saying I was “insincere”. In their eyes, I was a cheater, a traitor, and the worst of everything a man can be denominated. It was too late by the time they realized that they were all misunderstandings. ‘Twenty-one’ gave me tears. I was sad most of the time, dark within. Even the painted smile was flaking off from my face. I had lamented and wailed. My heart bled. Everyone seemed to walk away from me. Everybody were preachers and saints. I was the only sinner. They made muted shouts – “…believe him not…hate him...loathe him…get him beaten…”. My once closest ones became my own executioners. They apparently had vanguards of protectors before them, who were also up in rage against me. Some of them realized later they were wrong, some not yet. But that’s my least of concerns. Because they are either strangers or very less of an acquaintance to me – third parties.
It would be insufficient if I did not mention about the academic implications during the three semesters I spent in this room. From being optimistic, I became complacent, then slowly turned to being pessimistic and I eventually reached the pinnacle of hopelessness. The darkness crept into everything, one obvious one being its reflection in my GPA. While I had a fair 7.3 GPA in my third semester, it had come down to barely over 7.1 in my fourth semester- that was the time I was turning to get complacent with what I got. The graph collapsed and in my fifth semester, it had come down to as low as a meager 6.3. That was the time I gave up luck and left everything to fate. I was in fact showing signs of hopelessness towards the end. To better give a more graphic picture of my totally gross performance, I had a GPA of 7.96 in my first year of engineering. I was almost an 8-pointer back then. History. Obviously, I was not in room number 21 back then.
You may find it silly, but the first mobile phone that came to my home was the Nokia 2100. The first television that we bought was a 21-inch one. The year we built our own house and moved in was 1992. The digits add to 21. You might well say it’s just “a twenty-one”. But I say “it’s the twenty-one” which lurks around and manifests in the most unnoticed of circumstances- the 21 which is so obvious in its manifestations.
Quite a few might be aware by now that the End of Days is predicted to be on the 21st of December 2012. There was a documentary in History Channel over a year back that showcased the History of time, how the Mayan Calendar predicted the future, how the predictions of Nostradamus came true. Even the internet showed up weird patterns during phenomenal events like the 9/11 and Tsunami. The Mayan Calendar ends abruptly on December 21st 2012, so does many other predictions from Oracles and chronicles. Moreover, this date has implications on the internet. And all of these and many other sources independently predicted the same precise date for the World's end. Whats even more shocking to me is the date. Its 21-12-12. See?
As I am finishing up this post, I got the weirdest of all realizations. I was shocked to see the way ‘twenty-one’ infested itself in it, in this very post. Just go up to the beginning of the post and see the date. I wrote the post on 12th of September. ‘12’ is 21 reversed. You think that’s it? Well, just add up the digits of the date. Goodbye…
For those of you who have watched the film The Number 23, this post might seem to be an exaggeration of the events in the film. But actually, this one is no adaptation of that movie, nor am I anyone like the character Topsy Kretts. But the central point about this post revolves around a number, just like in the movie. Its true I had been haunted by the number 21 long before I even saw the movie. I saw the film just a month back, but I was deeply provoked to write up about my story. In fact it’s not a story. It’s just an account of instances where the number 21 had been ‘following’ me. Even when I am about to start exhuming the experiences I’ve had with this number, my fingers tremble. There’s a cold chill down my spine just thinking that I am actually writing about this.
For most of the first experiences I’ve had with this number, I took them as mere coincidences. But later when things happened to unravel, the occurrence of this number and its impact on me seemed to be obvious. I even got so obsessed with this number that I looked for a twenty-one in every numerical encounter I had, may it be the license plate of my car, my credit card PIN number, my cell phone number, everything. I added or subtracted the digits of the numbers to see if they made up to a 21. At this point, for those of you who feel I’m eccentric, I say just fuck off. The others may continue reading. This is no story, no piece of exaggerated figments of imagination, no day dreaming. It’s about my life.
The most striking thing that I noticed is that the occurrence of the number 21 is meaningful. If I look for and ‘mine’ for this number, I don’t find it. But it persists. I could see it. 21 came out to light only when I looked back. I could not find it when I searched for it, but it came to me. For instance, just as I’m writing this post, it struck me that I am 21 years old. Why didn’t I write about this last year? Or maybe four months back, when I was only 20? I was born on the 12th of May. Twelve is 21 reversed. These two instances just sprouted up in my mind. I never thought of the date 12th otherwise. Seeing such a peculiar pattern, I tried to add the digits of my complete DOB, but couldn’t find any 21. If I dig for it I don’t find it, but it appears very cleverly!
The occurrences got more frequent, or maybe that’s cuz I was preoccupied with it that I expected a 21 in everything I did or thought of. Let me tell you about a recent instance. It happened less than a month ago. 15th of August to be exact. It is the day of Indian Independence and we had programs at college. As I got to college, there was a quiz going on and three of my friends were attending it. They called me to join them. Sajna and Rasmi had the answer sheets. Prashant was teaming with Sajna and Rasmi asked me to join her (apparently to help her in a History Quiz- my most loathed subject!). The questions were projected onto the white board and she asked me to give her the answers. I saw she hadn’t answered a question and the question was to give the year in which something had happened (I don’t exactly remember the question). As the final bell rang, I told her the answer could be 1921. I said it with the 21 in mind. She was dubious and did not write the answer I suggested. Finally the answers were being read out and the answer to that particular question turned out to be 1921. I just looked up at the board and was stunned to see that it was the answer to the 12th question. I had till that second, not noticed that it was the 12th question. This is no lie. At this point, if you don’t trust me, Rasmi is a witness. You can abandon this and still leave if you feel I’m being ridiculous, cuz I don’t give a fuck. Period.
This is how it all began. I started noticing the number 21 when it appeared twice or thrice in a same particular context. It was when I was watching a film on HBO that I first noticed this strange thing. I don’t remember which film it was, but the shot goes something like this- a man (an investigator in disguise) comes to a Hospital office and demands to see the mortuary. He is turned down, who goes on to bribe the keeper of the mortuary and gains access. The man asks the number of the compartment in which the particular dead body is kept. I, out of random told myself it is 21. The next second the mortuary keeper replies the man “its 21”. This prediction of mine did not in fact fascinate me back then. I was just thrilled that ‘I predicted it was coming’. But when a similar circumstance occurred and I again predicted the number 21 in some other TV program, even before the person answered, I again turned out to be right. It was then that I first actually noticed the number. At first I thought it was just a déjà vu. But later on it was turning out to be reality.
The next little story I am about to say might seem illogical for at least a few. Having had this thought of the number 21 for quite some time, this might seem like a lie. There was a recent room shuffling in my hostel and I was shifted to room number 28. It was just a month back that I actually happened to notice that the room in which I had been staying for the past one and a half years was Room Number 21. During my long stay in that room, I never even for once bothered about the number of my room, which is so well painted onto the wooden door- the painted label that I saw every day umpteen number of times, the number which I wrote down on the plenty leave application forms every time I went home, the number which was written down in the hostel fee receipt every month. Now you might feel that merely staying in one particular room, with a particular stupid number, is just a coincidence. I agree. But this room gave me a lot. It took me through everything, this room shaped me. In fact it changed me to the man I was not. I went through all of the dull things while my stay in this room. Now looking back, it’s all the past. But room number 21 was the saddest room- for me. I had stayed in 5 other rooms in the same hostel, but 21 was not at all like any of them. For once when I first moved in to 21, I thought it was the brightest room in OCSC. It is true in the literary sense that it had ample sunlight. But with the passage of time, it got darker and darker. Eventually I hated to even enter my room. I came in only to sleep at night. I either spent time in Prashant’s room or Deepu’s. I had a PC in my room, but I was never interested. My friends teased me, mocked me and took me as an outcast because I would sit with them watching them stick on to their desktops and laptops. They would say “…Anup has a PC of his own, but still he doesn’t play on that. He wouldn’t install any games on his own PC, but accompanies (or in their sarcastic sense ‘disturb’) everyone else…No one knows what Anup has got in his PC, cuz he doesn’t let anyone near it…Anup is a loner…Anup is self-occupied…Anup is a pessimist…Anup is cynical…paranoid…” For a while a dear friend of mine even christened me “Moody Anup”. I tasted everything while in this room- love, hatred, anger, compassion, accusations, allegations, even the slightest peccadilloes were converted to criminal acts and breaches of trust by my closest of pals. Protecting one’s interest transformed into cheating on another, in the latter’s perspective. There are only three people in my life who called me a ‘cheater’. And all of them branded me that beautiful attribution while I was in 21. One of them went to the extent of saying I was “insincere”. In their eyes, I was a cheater, a traitor, and the worst of everything a man can be denominated. It was too late by the time they realized that they were all misunderstandings. ‘Twenty-one’ gave me tears. I was sad most of the time, dark within. Even the painted smile was flaking off from my face. I had lamented and wailed. My heart bled. Everyone seemed to walk away from me. Everybody were preachers and saints. I was the only sinner. They made muted shouts – “…believe him not…hate him...loathe him…get him beaten…”. My once closest ones became my own executioners. They apparently had vanguards of protectors before them, who were also up in rage against me. Some of them realized later they were wrong, some not yet. But that’s my least of concerns. Because they are either strangers or very less of an acquaintance to me – third parties.
It would be insufficient if I did not mention about the academic implications during the three semesters I spent in this room. From being optimistic, I became complacent, then slowly turned to being pessimistic and I eventually reached the pinnacle of hopelessness. The darkness crept into everything, one obvious one being its reflection in my GPA. While I had a fair 7.3 GPA in my third semester, it had come down to barely over 7.1 in my fourth semester- that was the time I was turning to get complacent with what I got. The graph collapsed and in my fifth semester, it had come down to as low as a meager 6.3. That was the time I gave up luck and left everything to fate. I was in fact showing signs of hopelessness towards the end. To better give a more graphic picture of my totally gross performance, I had a GPA of 7.96 in my first year of engineering. I was almost an 8-pointer back then. History. Obviously, I was not in room number 21 back then.
You may find it silly, but the first mobile phone that came to my home was the Nokia 2100. The first television that we bought was a 21-inch one. The year we built our own house and moved in was 1992. The digits add to 21. You might well say it’s just “a twenty-one”. But I say “it’s the twenty-one” which lurks around and manifests in the most unnoticed of circumstances- the 21 which is so obvious in its manifestations.
Quite a few might be aware by now that the End of Days is predicted to be on the 21st of December 2012. There was a documentary in History Channel over a year back that showcased the History of time, how the Mayan Calendar predicted the future, how the predictions of Nostradamus came true. Even the internet showed up weird patterns during phenomenal events like the 9/11 and Tsunami. The Mayan Calendar ends abruptly on December 21st 2012, so does many other predictions from Oracles and chronicles. Moreover, this date has implications on the internet. And all of these and many other sources independently predicted the same precise date for the World's end. Whats even more shocking to me is the date. Its 21-12-12. See?
As I am finishing up this post, I got the weirdest of all realizations. I was shocked to see the way ‘twenty-one’ infested itself in it, in this very post. Just go up to the beginning of the post and see the date. I wrote the post on 12th of September. ‘12’ is 21 reversed. You think that’s it? Well, just add up the digits of the date. Goodbye…
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
The Spell.
When I started out to write something for my new blog post, I had no idea what I should write aobut. I started out with my current state of mind, confused, estranged, doubtful, yes cynical maybe. But I had genuine reasons for all those and when I sat down to write about it, I realized I had to be too abstract keeping in mind certain common interests. Ok, What I am saying is that I tried to write about my feelings but when I found that I could not carry on, I decided to write something amusing, something that’s not dark. But I still didn’t get anything to write. Ok, maybe I’ll write about my latest rendezvous with my strongest ever crush! My crush on a senior collegiate. She’s the prettiest girl in college, but sadly, not just for me but for quite a few others too! :-( Even girls stare at her when she walks by. Her beauty, the attitude in her walk, her smile, her stare, her everything. I bet at least 75% of the girls would have for once wished that she be her. I’ve adored her and stood spellbound at every glance I’ve made on her, and I’ve used every opportunity to glance on her and enjoy that flawless charisma (oh boy, oh boy!). She’s the only one (so far!) about whom I’ve never got tired of praising, because she’s one fine specimen of a woman. The epitome of beauty, the panacea to my dismay, my day-maker!
It all started with my first ever glimpse of her two years back. As I said, she is one year elder in seniority and a few from her class, of course including her, had come to our class to catch prospectus buyers for their old books! I guess she was wearing a maroon salwar that day! The first look on her and I was bowled over! Period. I stood may be with my mouth open in astonishment! She was pretty, prettier than the ‘angel-in-disguise’ in one of my previous posts. Months had passed since I joined the college before I first saw her, and I cursed myself for not being able to adore her for those missed months! But inside, I was elated – ‘better late than never!’ I couldn’t speak to her anything that day, nor till date. Every time I see her, I find time only to stare and adore. Many a times she had caught me looking at her. It never made me embarrassed or humiliated, it only made me better feeling ‘oh yes, we made eye contact. Maybe the eyes will speak…’ but sadly they didn’t. It was as though waiting for the impossible. I had tried to smile at a few occasions when we saw each other eye-to-eye, and there had been eye contacts at point-blank range too, but those occasions were unforeseen and I even found it hard to breathe, let alone smile. It only came out as a slight variation in my lip length, a confused state of joy and suffocation and elation. Now what gesture can be used to show such a complex emotion?!! But the disappointing (or maybe the pleasing) thing is that seeing my face, she finds it hard how to react, to smile or not to. Disappointing because I ruined a chance to see her smile and pleasing because her confusion makes me feel that she is in the same situation as I am! ;-) Too much hopeful eh?!
Maybe the most I stare at her is when she dances. She’s a great dancer and looks attractive in every outfit. She is aware of her beauty. There are instances when my friends and I used to stroll outside dance-practice rooms after class. Even girls in my class know about my attraction for her. A few months back, Divya and I had gone for a ‘walk’ around a class to see her dance and teach her group members the steps. Her moves are immaculate and her expressions are from the heart. She dances with such dexterity and her face speaks her heart; as though it’s her delight dancing. The most special thing I like about her in her dance (apart from her dance itself) is her transformation of emotions in the same dance session. Recently I saw her dance in a huge outdoor stage, and I had found my way to the front rows, she was dancing to a fusion-music. It started off with a love song, and then to a powerful kinda music and back to a peppy number. In the first part she was displaying a charming disposition of a pretty lady, smiling and dancing to the tune, and then a sudden transformation into the second part, where she displays robust steps with the smile vanished from her face, now showing only a stubborn stare with her eyes hardly blinking. The third part takes her emotions back to that of a charming teen. She takes you to different worlds, just look into her face when she dances.
Once or twice, on certain occasions, I had walked outside her class to get a glimpse of her. I couldn’t lurk much around her class, because that would be ogling. And I don’t ogle (not in her case anyway!), I admire.
Coming back to where I started, I happened to see this so called doll (that’s the name that I just christened!) a few days back; the 4th of June to be precise, at around 9:20am. Sixth semester engineering exam; the subject- Software Project Management. Apparently there were many seniors who had arrear in that paper and it was a surprise to see her that morning. She looked pretty, as always. My classmate Preetha saw me watching her walk down the road in front of Information Technology department. Preetha gave me a dubious stare! I said to myself ‘ah, no probs. everyone knows!’ My instant prayer was- no no, not that my exam should be easy. Instead it was ‘God, let us both be seated in the same row, or at least the same class!’ And you know, God works in wondrous ways. He replied in the negative! Maybe He wanted me to write the exam well; after all He probably knows that this is a vulnerable 'subject'! Got the pun?!! Ah… yes, coming back, we were seated in adjacent classrooms. She was walking up and down the corridor with a text book in her hand, apparently studying. I wished she saw me, wished for an eye-contact. But no. Not this time son. Soon it was time to commence the exam and both of us got into different classrooms. Who the F made the seating arrangements!
Hey wait! The story doesn’t end here. As it is said, when a door closes, another one opens before you! And it did. Get what I mean?! The grass is definitely greener on the other side, but damn, I've got green grass in my yard too! ;-) Just that this time its not a magnificient garden, its a murky classroom! But who cares!
It all started with my first ever glimpse of her two years back. As I said, she is one year elder in seniority and a few from her class, of course including her, had come to our class to catch prospectus buyers for their old books! I guess she was wearing a maroon salwar that day! The first look on her and I was bowled over! Period. I stood may be with my mouth open in astonishment! She was pretty, prettier than the ‘angel-in-disguise’ in one of my previous posts. Months had passed since I joined the college before I first saw her, and I cursed myself for not being able to adore her for those missed months! But inside, I was elated – ‘better late than never!’ I couldn’t speak to her anything that day, nor till date. Every time I see her, I find time only to stare and adore. Many a times she had caught me looking at her. It never made me embarrassed or humiliated, it only made me better feeling ‘oh yes, we made eye contact. Maybe the eyes will speak…’ but sadly they didn’t. It was as though waiting for the impossible. I had tried to smile at a few occasions when we saw each other eye-to-eye, and there had been eye contacts at point-blank range too, but those occasions were unforeseen and I even found it hard to breathe, let alone smile. It only came out as a slight variation in my lip length, a confused state of joy and suffocation and elation. Now what gesture can be used to show such a complex emotion?!! But the disappointing (or maybe the pleasing) thing is that seeing my face, she finds it hard how to react, to smile or not to. Disappointing because I ruined a chance to see her smile and pleasing because her confusion makes me feel that she is in the same situation as I am! ;-) Too much hopeful eh?!
Maybe the most I stare at her is when she dances. She’s a great dancer and looks attractive in every outfit. She is aware of her beauty. There are instances when my friends and I used to stroll outside dance-practice rooms after class. Even girls in my class know about my attraction for her. A few months back, Divya and I had gone for a ‘walk’ around a class to see her dance and teach her group members the steps. Her moves are immaculate and her expressions are from the heart. She dances with such dexterity and her face speaks her heart; as though it’s her delight dancing. The most special thing I like about her in her dance (apart from her dance itself) is her transformation of emotions in the same dance session. Recently I saw her dance in a huge outdoor stage, and I had found my way to the front rows, she was dancing to a fusion-music. It started off with a love song, and then to a powerful kinda music and back to a peppy number. In the first part she was displaying a charming disposition of a pretty lady, smiling and dancing to the tune, and then a sudden transformation into the second part, where she displays robust steps with the smile vanished from her face, now showing only a stubborn stare with her eyes hardly blinking. The third part takes her emotions back to that of a charming teen. She takes you to different worlds, just look into her face when she dances.
Once or twice, on certain occasions, I had walked outside her class to get a glimpse of her. I couldn’t lurk much around her class, because that would be ogling. And I don’t ogle (not in her case anyway!), I admire.
Coming back to where I started, I happened to see this so called doll (that’s the name that I just christened!) a few days back; the 4th of June to be precise, at around 9:20am. Sixth semester engineering exam; the subject- Software Project Management. Apparently there were many seniors who had arrear in that paper and it was a surprise to see her that morning. She looked pretty, as always. My classmate Preetha saw me watching her walk down the road in front of Information Technology department. Preetha gave me a dubious stare! I said to myself ‘ah, no probs. everyone knows!’ My instant prayer was- no no, not that my exam should be easy. Instead it was ‘God, let us both be seated in the same row, or at least the same class!’ And you know, God works in wondrous ways. He replied in the negative! Maybe He wanted me to write the exam well; after all He probably knows that this is a vulnerable 'subject'! Got the pun?!! Ah… yes, coming back, we were seated in adjacent classrooms. She was walking up and down the corridor with a text book in her hand, apparently studying. I wished she saw me, wished for an eye-contact. But no. Not this time son. Soon it was time to commence the exam and both of us got into different classrooms. Who the F made the seating arrangements!
Hey wait! The story doesn’t end here. As it is said, when a door closes, another one opens before you! And it did. Get what I mean?! The grass is definitely greener on the other side, but damn, I've got green grass in my yard too! ;-) Just that this time its not a magnificient garden, its a murky classroom! But who cares!
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Nightfall
As time passes by, as day begins to yawn
I see the dark looking down on me
The silent caress of the twilight wind
The chimes in my heart ring
With the sound so sweet
That calls me to repose.
But yet it rings of anxiety, of fear
Knowing that one more day
Has been snatched away from my life.
One more day closer to death.
But I know I have to keep breathing
For I know not what tomorrow brings.
As the dark pulls down the curtain on light
And takes over the helm of time
Another busy day comes to a close.
Another page turned over in my book of dreams.
As I lie down to rest, staring at the ceiling
Questions run through my mind
‘Why am I here, what am I doing here’
‘Where am I going to?’
I close my eyes to see the last sleep.
That may give me my answers
To the questions that intrigue me
From daylight to nightfall…
I see the dark looking down on me
The silent caress of the twilight wind
The chimes in my heart ring
With the sound so sweet
That calls me to repose.
But yet it rings of anxiety, of fear
Knowing that one more day
Has been snatched away from my life.
One more day closer to death.
But I know I have to keep breathing
For I know not what tomorrow brings.
As the dark pulls down the curtain on light
And takes over the helm of time
Another busy day comes to a close.
Another page turned over in my book of dreams.
As I lie down to rest, staring at the ceiling
Questions run through my mind
‘Why am I here, what am I doing here’
‘Where am I going to?’
I close my eyes to see the last sleep.
That may give me my answers
To the questions that intrigue me
From daylight to nightfall…
Back Again!
A long break from blogging. A very long one indeed. There’s gotta be something that took me away from blogging, but actually there isn’t any! I was not interested in anything, not specially blogging. But then again I kept thinking I needed to come back. Make a come-back. So why not bring in a change?!! Its not a change that I thought about over sleepless nights or something. It just happened incidentally. Ya, I happened to write a poem! What the fuck! I can’t believe I did! And it got published in the college magazine too! Now let me make this very clear, this is not a great achievement or a masterpiece created in a month or two’s time over a bottle of booze each night. No. Its just a creation-not even a creation maybe- that took only a couple of hours. Something that I penned down…err…or rather typed down in Ms.Office when I was apparently in a numbed state of mind. Now I don’t know the reason why I was numbed down. Leave that part. So here goes, my first ever ahem…poem, maybe a disgrace to the whole poem-osphere, cuz it has not got any rhyme scheme! The rhyme scheme goes something like this- abcdef… and so on!!! I expect a few comments, if not a standing ovation!! :-D
C ya soon…
C ya soon…
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