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…
Sunday, November 22, 2009
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…
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Onam '08
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This day has always been looked forward to. Partly cuz it brings a lot of joy and harmony but mainly because I had not joined the class during the Onam celebration last year; I had gone on a North India tour with my family. The last week had been the longest so far. It had been nearly two months since I had gone home. I wanted to go home asap, but more than that, I considered it an obligation that I be present for the Onam celebrations at college. But the saddest part was that, most of my classmates decided to go home before the day. The celebration was scheduled on Friday, but the girls staying at the hostel had started to go home by Wednesday. One of them, Rasmi (a.k.a ;-)) said, “You don’t know how boring it is to stay here in hostel. I better go home.” She added, “I don’t want to be the last one in my room to leave for home”. Strange! All of them had gone home, except a few. This included my very close friend S@chu. (Note the ‘@’ in place of an ‘a’; she simply loves it!! Strange! :-) ). Though she had hesitations about wearing a fancy red sari; said it made her look thinner! But finally she replied in the positive. But what was more disheartening was that last time I was the one to go on tour during Onam, while this time most of my good friends were going. Reena had gone to Delhi on a family trip and Rasmi on a Chennai trip. Lina had planned a Bangalore trip. However, it was scheduled after the celebration.
September 4th, the day before celebration. We had class till noon and the preparations for the next day were on from the afternoon. This included stacking up the benches and desks and cleaning the floor. I had a terrible headache since morning and I wanted to take rest at any cost. I had to leave college at noon. The pain was excruciating. I must at this point thank my friend S@chu for massaging my scalp. She was there with me for over an hour, rubbing my forehead and trying to sink a vein that had protruded on either side of my scalp! It happens to me every time I get a severe headache. I felt better after a few minutes. My friend Renju was also beside me. However, my condition started to worsen with time and I decided to leave. I apologized for not being able to stay back and help and left.
September 4th, the day before celebration. We had class till noon and the preparations for the next day were on from the afternoon. This included stacking up the benches and desks and cleaning the floor. I had a terrible headache since morning and I wanted to take rest at any cost. I had to leave college at noon. The pain was excruciating. I must at this point thank my friend S@chu for massaging my scalp. She was there with me for over an hour, rubbing my forehead and trying to sink a vein that had protruded on either side of my scalp! It happens to me every time I get a severe headache. I felt better after a few minutes. My friend Renju was also beside me. However, my condition started to worsen with time and I decided to leave. I apologized for not being able to stay back and help and left.
The Genesis-Mithun,Mukundan,Jobish and Vijith
September 5th- the most awaited day of the week, at least for me! I was awakened by my friend Deepu. He came in clad in Kasavu Mundu (the traditional Onam wear for men, ‘dhoti’ kind of outfit!) and a pink shirt. I got up and got ready in a few minutes. I wore a Kasavu Mundu with a red border and a red shirt. As soon as I got dressed, I rushed to my friend Prashant’s room. He is not used to wearing Mundu, particularly cuz he’d been brought up in Delhi. I had a tough time getting him dressed. He is not very patient, and by the time I would be making the crease, he would have finished tucking in the end to his waist. I somehow made it up. Next destination was Vinit’s room! Another North Indian rascal! Fortunately, he had already been dressed up when I reached his room, with a belt around his waist, as a protection to prevent any chances of wardrobe malfunction! ;-) All of us rushed to college. Vinit had doubts walking all the way to college and opined for an auto rickshaw ride. It was turned down by me though! When I got to the class, the design layout for the Pookkalam (Flower Carpet) had already been drawn on the floor by Vijith, Mukundan, Jobish, Mithun and Lina on the previous day. Everyone in class looked beautiful: boys in mundu and girls in saris. There was an unusual, yet pleasant aura filling the whole classroom. Everyone was happy. We were greeted with the tag-name “OCSC troupe”! At every corner of the classroom, and even on the floor, a few of them were gathered, pinching and cutting the flower petals to the appropriate sizes to be laid down in the Pookkalam. There were photo sessions going on in the meantime. A few of them were “group specific”. There are groups in our class! The prominent groups being IBBA, ABS, BADG and LSDRap, in the order in which they were conceived! IBBA stands for IT Back Benchers’ Association. ABS, BADG and LSDRap were formed from the first letters of the names of members. ABS includes Archana, Bindhu and Saranya, BADG includes Bindhya, Anisha, Dakshayani and Greeshma. LSDRap has Lina, Sajna (or S@chu), Darshana, Renju, Anup (that’s me!!) and Prashant as members. I was the last to join this group; two earlier members were kicked out by the rest, for reasons irrelevant to elucidate here! ;-) The bottom line is that they were two-of-a-kind! In spite of having groups, there was no group-ism of any sort. We were essentially one class. The layout on the floor looked nothing more than a labyrinth of curves, lines and circles, arcs and what not! Last year, we had bagged the first prize in Pookkalam Competition. But alas, I wasn’t present to be a part of the victory! I too joined in the business of pinching the flowers. The violet Vaadamulla (or Undamalli), the smallest flower in the lot was the most difficult to pinch. There were over 6 friends involved in it. There were also a few involved in pinching other flowers. Everyone had doubts of how to pinch the magenta Kozhivaalan flower. I took over the job and hired a few associates and taught them how to do it. Please excuse me for my explicit usage of Malayalam names for the flowers. I don’t know if these flowers have any common names in English and frankly, I’m unaware of the scientific names! Please bear with my ignorance. I shifted from different flowers and had my hand on every flower present there! It was fun, the flowers were beautiful, but some of them had a pungent smell hidden under the veneer of their beautiful colors.
The OCSC Troupe -Me, Deepu, Prashant and Vinit
Me, Azar and Deepu engaged in the pinching businessThe deadline for the Pookkalam laying was 11am. By 10am, everyone abandoned photo capturing and was solely involved in making the flower carpet. The pinching of flowers sped up and the Pookkalam began to take shape. The curves and arcs were filled with flower petals of different colors- orange and yellow (Jhendumalli), white (Jamandhi), pink and white (Arali), Vaadamulla and Kozhivaalan. Only the usage of flowers was allowed in the competition. Using any kind of leaves disqualified the participation. We were running against time to finish making the carpet. There were last minute changes in design. The Pookkalam was almost done when there was a confusion of which color to fill in the last circle. There were a lot of suggestions. A few opined to half the last circle and fill each half with a different color. There were also suggestions to use three outer circles. Finally, a consensus was arrived. The former design was chosen and the process resumed. The pinching of flowers came to an end and the circumference of the Pookkalam was now crowded with over 10 of us kneeling down, filling in the patches and making finishing touches. Once finished, it looked like a masterpiece; a creation accomplished by the involvement of every one of us. Once the Pookkalam was all set, it was time for cleaning. The leftovers of the flowers and leaves had to be removed from the floor. The girls hesitated taking up the cleaning themselves, saying “we are in saris, you can imagine how difficult it is for us to sweep the room”. In a sense, they are right, cuz most of them were wearing a sari for the first time. It was evident from the way they were walking; half-a-step at a time! Many of them were literally hopping while walking down the stairway, from the fear of tripping over. Once the room was cleaned, it was time for decorating the floor. Mukundan wrote Onam Greetings and Jobish, Prashant, Vijith and I decorated it with flowers. To give the floor a more cultural effect, Vijith drew the Kathakali face on the floor. Kathakali is an art form of Kerala. It is a musical narration of a myth, involving dance and complex facial expressions. This was followed by the drawing of the footsteps of Mahabali. Legend has it that King Mahabali visits his subjects every year for Onam. However, it was Prashant’s feet, which was outlined on behalf of the real Mahabali!
The bloggers - Me, Hari and Prashant
After the floor was set for the jury to judge, it was time for us to go bird-watching! Birds dressed in saris; birds which did not fly! Mithun, Prashant, Anand, Vinit, Renjith and I set out, apparently to check out the Pookkalams of other classes, but essentially to stroll throughout the campus on the look out for rare breeds! We started off with the juniors’ block. The catch there was not very impressive. But those who never looked pretty otherwise seemed to have some appeal in sari. We being seniors were not affected by any restrictions on ogling. Who is gonna question us?!! Humph! Next we went to the seniors’ block, but this time we were a bit cautious. They are seniors after all! They could question us, in any manner they wished! I personally had someone to see among the seniors. I had seen her in the morning, with a little help from my friend Sree Reshmi! But that was just a blur! I wanted to see her again. This time Vinit helped me spot her in her class. I was ‘kinda’ satisfied! She looked pretty. She always did. Once we had finished preying around, we went straight to the Paayasam stall. It was noon, and very hot. We were hungry. The morning was spent mostly making the Pookkalam, crouching and kneeling throughout. My knee joint was aching with the same intensity as my empty stomach was. By 1pm, most of them had left for lunch, while a few boys went for the usual boozing session. The sport events had not yet started; neither did they announce the winner of the Pookkalam Competition. The much awaited Tug-of-War, Musical Chair and Uriyadi (A kind of Piñata game, in which an earthen pot is hung over-head and the participant has to break it while the pot will be pulled up and down to prevent it being hit) was delayed. We were getting restless and by 2 pm, all of us decided to leave. A few more snaps were taken and everyone said goodbye and started to leave. Prashant being the class representative, stayed back to hear the results of the competitions.
A fun filled day had finally come to an end. Everything was a blur. It all seemed to end in a jiffy. It was fun to have a day off after the long series of exams. But sad that it all happened in a matter of hours. Walking back to my hostel, I thought about the last days in my college. How sad it would be to leave all my friends and bid farewell…barely two years from now…
A fun filled day had finally come to an end. Everything was a blur. It all seemed to end in a jiffy. It was fun to have a day off after the long series of exams. But sad that it all happened in a matter of hours. Walking back to my hostel, I thought about the last days in my college. How sad it would be to leave all my friends and bid farewell…barely two years from now…
Thursday, August 28, 2008
A three-hour day!
With the university exams over, it was time to relax. But not for long. The usual fun and frolic that follows on the last day of the exams was not there. This time it was much different. The internal lab exams were scheduled 3 days from the day of the last university exam. No one would be in a mood to study after an almost month long series of exams. The thought that the exams were over was even more frightening. Now I had to ‘focus’ on lab exams. I don’t think the word ‘focus’ ever suited me. Fourth semester was never one during which teachers came regularly to class. They were less concerned, but we were least concerned whether they came or not! Not their fault though; they say we were the worst batch the college has ever seen, until date. And I don’t defend the fact too. They are right, in a way! The usual 6-month tenure of a semester did not apply for S4. We got very few working days. It started in February and ended in July. Yeah you can count and very well see that we got 6 months indeed! But not in reality. There was (fairly)regular classes in February. But in March, the IT department teachers were attending a 3-week long Teacher’s Training Program. This gave us the freedom to spend the whole day chatting, playing and fooling around in class. We barely had an hour’s class each day. Then there was a new wave of interest – playing cards! Many joined in the card bandwagon, and unbelievably, the girls were in the frontline. If the morning was spent playing cards, the afternoon would be spent on charades. That meant almost a month of fun. It was April, and with the swearing in of a new Head of Department, we had hopes of getting a tour sanctioned. We got the green signal and the first week was spent touring. By mid-April, the University had declared a new scheme for the academic year. They called it ‘Sem-break’. It was not a study leave. It was rather a leave for the teachers, a month long vacation! Classes were temporarily suspended from 18th of April till June. Now all these meant over 2 months of vacation, and not to mention the intermittent hartals and public holidays. Classes resumed from June, for the sake of it. It made no much difference though. Class hours were few and the student attendance too!
During these times, the thing that was most affected was the laboratory sessions. We have two labs- Data Structures and Java. While the basics of the former were taught in semester 3 and it also had a theory paper in semester 4, there was no theory class for Java. That meant we either study for ourselves or go for tuition. I, for some reason, could not join a tuition in Java. I never thought it would be such a tough subject (probably for me). But by the time I realized that, it was too late. In fact, I realized it on the day before the lab exam, day before yesterday to be precise. At midnight! The book was open in front of me, and I stared into the book. Undoubtedly, I could not understand a word! All I could recall was the ‘import’ statements! I could see they were analogous to the ‘#include’ statements in C++! (Brilliant me!). I was losing hope. I decided to memorize the program codes. I knew I can’t do that. Cuz if I were capable enough to memorize stuff, I would be doing Medicine instead of Engineering! Memorizing is not my cup of tea. I thought of alternatives- cheating, taking bits to the lab et al. But preparing bits would consume a lot of time. I had decided to fail. I had no choice. I do not know how to start doing a program. In C++ there was the main() function, but Applet programs don’t. So where the fuck does the program execution start? Frankly, I still don’t know! Finally, I managed to study two class definitions, which were common to 3 programs. I hoped to type in at least something on my monitor! I realized staying awake late at night, was not gonna help this time, cuz I did not even know what to expect, let alone what to study. I went to bed before my usual time and got up just 30 minutes before the exam! The college is nearly 15-minute walk from hostel.
I reached college, and to my relief, there was no power supply in the lab. Yes! That meant no lab exam today. How could they conduct a lab exam without power? But unfortunately, the teachers managed to run 11 systems on the UPS and we were called in for the exam. We were distributed answer sheets to write down the algorithm, before we could proceed. The teacher was hopeless seeing the algorithms of each student, and without much hesitation, she gave the green signal to everyone to ‘try’ the program. Luckily, the program implemented the two classes I had memorized. I started out typing them but got stuck midway. I lost track of what I had fed in my memory and I could not carry on. I turned around and looked at everyone around me. I could see heads turned intently on their respective monitors, while their fingers did the job. I peeped onto my neighbor’s monitor and could see what I wanted. I started typing out what he’d typed. But unfortunately, he had to make a few changes in the code he’d written before and he drifted to different parts of the program and made modifications. I lost track for a second time. I was left staring into the blank. Often, the power supply got tripped, giving me hopes, but resumed in a few minutes leaving me lost again. It was 1130, still over an hour to go before I could leave the lab. I had been sitting idle in front of my system for almost an hour now. Twice the lab assistants came over to me and warned me “to keep my eyes on my computer screen”! The java lab is a smaller one and the teachers could easily see every student in the room. I knew there was no way out. I have not been used to keeping thund (cheat bits!), though I resort to all other means, I did not have the balls to take out a slip and copy inside the exam hall. At 1145, I decided to leave the lab. Tell the invigilator that I won’t be able to the program and that it would not be any fruitful to stay in the lab any longer. I was about to get up from my seat, that the power supply went dead for an umpteenth time. All the active systems lost power and shutdown. Suddenly I got this feeling that I will be saved. What if the power did not resume in an hour? But then again, I knew it was a distant possibility. 5 minutes, 6 minutes, 8 minutes. My hopes were rising. But alas, within 10 minutes, the power resumed. All the systems came to life and I went dead! I looked into my monitor. To the right of the scroll bar of the Eclipse SDK text editor, I could see a plethora of red patches. I clicked on one of them and the editor showed me an area where an error had occurred. It gave the description of the error, but fuck, I did not know how to rectify it. I did not even understand what the error was in the first place. I peeked at the other monitors. I could not see red patches. Instead, there were only yellow and white. I did not know what that meant, but I guessed it posed no ‘danger’, cuz conventionally, red is the color for danger!
I was left alone in the crowd; my friends were starting to get the Applet window (that’s where the program output appears). I turned to my neighbor’s monitor and could see a pile of cards, and a grid layout. The guy was clicking on the pile and cards were being placed on the grid. Wow, he’s gotta be a genius, I thought. For the second time, I decided to leave the lab. But then, the invigilator started summoning each us for the viva voce. I could not leave the lab until that was over. My viva voce was a wreck. She asked me over 6 questions, and I could only manage to get a half-answer right! She looked at me hopeless, and asked me to return to my seat. It was 1230. The next batch had to come in for the test. That meant we had to leave. I prayed for the power supply to go out. It did not. The invigilator rose to check our outputs. She started from the front row. I was in the third row. I could see the so-called Applet Window displaying at least something on every computer screen she checked. What have I got to show? Nothing! In a while, I found her standing next to my monitor. She asked me to show what I got. I said I’ve got nothing!! I tried to sound sad and gentle, to convince her that I tried my best, but could not get the output. She asked me to scroll down the length of my program code. It ended quite fast! She was surprised to see such a small program code! In fact, I had not written anything to even make the program appear lengthier. She took my answer sheet, scribbled something on it and told me I could go. I have never felt better! I left the room with my head bent. I did not want to face anyone. The next batch had entered and I could feel they were looking inquisitively on me, wanting to know how it had gone. But I did not want to talk to anyone. I left the lab. I sat in the sun outside. It was hot, but felt much better than the air-conditioned lab. It was all over. I had done my part (or have I?!!! ;-)). Now it was at the mercy of the teacher. My friend Anand came out after a few minutes. We talked to a few of our friends. I did not talk much. In fact, I was not in a mood to. The both of us stayed in the college for a while and then left...
During these times, the thing that was most affected was the laboratory sessions. We have two labs- Data Structures and Java. While the basics of the former were taught in semester 3 and it also had a theory paper in semester 4, there was no theory class for Java. That meant we either study for ourselves or go for tuition. I, for some reason, could not join a tuition in Java. I never thought it would be such a tough subject (probably for me). But by the time I realized that, it was too late. In fact, I realized it on the day before the lab exam, day before yesterday to be precise. At midnight! The book was open in front of me, and I stared into the book. Undoubtedly, I could not understand a word! All I could recall was the ‘import’ statements! I could see they were analogous to the ‘#include’ statements in C++! (Brilliant me!). I was losing hope. I decided to memorize the program codes. I knew I can’t do that. Cuz if I were capable enough to memorize stuff, I would be doing Medicine instead of Engineering! Memorizing is not my cup of tea. I thought of alternatives- cheating, taking bits to the lab et al. But preparing bits would consume a lot of time. I had decided to fail. I had no choice. I do not know how to start doing a program. In C++ there was the main() function, but Applet programs don’t. So where the fuck does the program execution start? Frankly, I still don’t know! Finally, I managed to study two class definitions, which were common to 3 programs. I hoped to type in at least something on my monitor! I realized staying awake late at night, was not gonna help this time, cuz I did not even know what to expect, let alone what to study. I went to bed before my usual time and got up just 30 minutes before the exam! The college is nearly 15-minute walk from hostel.
I reached college, and to my relief, there was no power supply in the lab. Yes! That meant no lab exam today. How could they conduct a lab exam without power? But unfortunately, the teachers managed to run 11 systems on the UPS and we were called in for the exam. We were distributed answer sheets to write down the algorithm, before we could proceed. The teacher was hopeless seeing the algorithms of each student, and without much hesitation, she gave the green signal to everyone to ‘try’ the program. Luckily, the program implemented the two classes I had memorized. I started out typing them but got stuck midway. I lost track of what I had fed in my memory and I could not carry on. I turned around and looked at everyone around me. I could see heads turned intently on their respective monitors, while their fingers did the job. I peeped onto my neighbor’s monitor and could see what I wanted. I started typing out what he’d typed. But unfortunately, he had to make a few changes in the code he’d written before and he drifted to different parts of the program and made modifications. I lost track for a second time. I was left staring into the blank. Often, the power supply got tripped, giving me hopes, but resumed in a few minutes leaving me lost again. It was 1130, still over an hour to go before I could leave the lab. I had been sitting idle in front of my system for almost an hour now. Twice the lab assistants came over to me and warned me “to keep my eyes on my computer screen”! The java lab is a smaller one and the teachers could easily see every student in the room. I knew there was no way out. I have not been used to keeping thund (cheat bits!), though I resort to all other means, I did not have the balls to take out a slip and copy inside the exam hall. At 1145, I decided to leave the lab. Tell the invigilator that I won’t be able to the program and that it would not be any fruitful to stay in the lab any longer. I was about to get up from my seat, that the power supply went dead for an umpteenth time. All the active systems lost power and shutdown. Suddenly I got this feeling that I will be saved. What if the power did not resume in an hour? But then again, I knew it was a distant possibility. 5 minutes, 6 minutes, 8 minutes. My hopes were rising. But alas, within 10 minutes, the power resumed. All the systems came to life and I went dead! I looked into my monitor. To the right of the scroll bar of the Eclipse SDK text editor, I could see a plethora of red patches. I clicked on one of them and the editor showed me an area where an error had occurred. It gave the description of the error, but fuck, I did not know how to rectify it. I did not even understand what the error was in the first place. I peeked at the other monitors. I could not see red patches. Instead, there were only yellow and white. I did not know what that meant, but I guessed it posed no ‘danger’, cuz conventionally, red is the color for danger!
I was left alone in the crowd; my friends were starting to get the Applet window (that’s where the program output appears). I turned to my neighbor’s monitor and could see a pile of cards, and a grid layout. The guy was clicking on the pile and cards were being placed on the grid. Wow, he’s gotta be a genius, I thought. For the second time, I decided to leave the lab. But then, the invigilator started summoning each us for the viva voce. I could not leave the lab until that was over. My viva voce was a wreck. She asked me over 6 questions, and I could only manage to get a half-answer right! She looked at me hopeless, and asked me to return to my seat. It was 1230. The next batch had to come in for the test. That meant we had to leave. I prayed for the power supply to go out. It did not. The invigilator rose to check our outputs. She started from the front row. I was in the third row. I could see the so-called Applet Window displaying at least something on every computer screen she checked. What have I got to show? Nothing! In a while, I found her standing next to my monitor. She asked me to show what I got. I said I’ve got nothing!! I tried to sound sad and gentle, to convince her that I tried my best, but could not get the output. She asked me to scroll down the length of my program code. It ended quite fast! She was surprised to see such a small program code! In fact, I had not written anything to even make the program appear lengthier. She took my answer sheet, scribbled something on it and told me I could go. I have never felt better! I left the room with my head bent. I did not want to face anyone. The next batch had entered and I could feel they were looking inquisitively on me, wanting to know how it had gone. But I did not want to talk to anyone. I left the lab. I sat in the sun outside. It was hot, but felt much better than the air-conditioned lab. It was all over. I had done my part (or have I?!!! ;-)). Now it was at the mercy of the teacher. My friend Anand came out after a few minutes. We talked to a few of our friends. I did not talk much. In fact, I was not in a mood to. The both of us stayed in the college for a while and then left...
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