Much ado about nothing

This time when I left Roorkee, it hadn’t been all about going back home. Unfortunately though, that’s all there was to it. Summers are like summers are meant to be – all the time in the world to do nothing. And that should have been perfectly okay albeit the fact that the rest of the people I hang out with were making a real good use of their time – and I mean everybody – in one way or another. IITs and esp. the grading system here, if nothing else, have at least instilled within us a stiff sense of relativism. So there I was, discontented with the gift of time and whatever measly intern I had managed to grab on to.

Uselessness gives rise to a lot of random thoughts in one’s head, which people often do mistake for thoughtfulness. Consequently, I had prepared a list of ‘Things-to-do’, hoping that they would give me a spirit of purpose and a joy of learning that I have lost somewhere on my way to the fourth year. As is with plans though, some were fulfilled, others partly so while the rest remained just that – plans. The vacations are over now and I will soon get down to making newer ones. It is amusing – this resilience and shameless optimism.

Coming back to Roorkee was different somehow. With an overcast sky and rain-fed, lush green fields, the world through which the train weaved was both dark and bright. A confluence so similar to my mood every time I have wondered what fate has in store for me in the coming year. Leaning out of the compartment gateway, the wind swept hair accompanied by an ever so slight drizzle against the face offered a delightful reception… and an explanation to why dogs love doing this in the car. I even contemplated hanging my tongue out. Just for the heck of it! However, I was certain it wouldn’t have gone down well with a middle-aged guy standing next to me who had been consistently inquiring about the kind of college IITs were; esp. after I had related to him the usual bull about them being the best of the lot.

Here in insti, much more than just the weather has changed. A certain set of familiar faces are now gone; their rooms, once a regular haunt, are crossed more out of habit than purpose. There are new landscapes, new folks, heck even the registration processes have been revised! This was sure to have spread smiles across many a faces until the good ol’ insti wi-fi plainly refused to be a part of such an atrocious crime… almost nostalgic. And for once, the whole lot of professors could be found cribbing about their inability to log in. Clearly such advancements in technology aren’t meant for everyone. Although such connectivity issues did a great job at making us old timers feel at home.

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There is a class at 10. Actually, that was a few minutes ago. And I find writing this post or for that matter practically anything else more appealing than the prospects of attending one. Some others I called, looking for motivation, are still snuggled up in their beds, enjoying the pleasant weather outside or resting from yesterday’s toils of having attended a lecture way at the opposite end of the campus – which is more or less round. Relativism takes its toll: There is a whole session left to learn regularity and punctuality. I, at least, had got up on time….

The Times They Are A-Changin’

Reluctant to add any productivity to my hours, I browse through the pics on my lappy – More than 11 GB of memories frozen in time, and many yet to come; sorting them and adding suitable captions so that I don’t have any trouble placing them in the jigsaw of my life eons from now.  Life, of late, has been a hazy, swirling motley of rushing moments – almost a blur. And, I have been trying, with little success, to make heads or tails of it. Too many things to do, and too little a time. I am already past my halftime in the game that has been my life in the col.

Pre-final year is neither here nor there. It lacks the uninhibited enthusiasm and optimism of the freshers; the settled complacence of the sophomores; and despite the overhanging doom of placements, a desire to move the world – that is the hope of the final year. Third year offers ceaseless panic and unrest. It bodes the arrival of a time when even the most complacent, ambition-less among us need to stop basking in the warmth of our success in JEE. Already, there have been sightings of various firms at our doorstep, seeking apprentices. They disappear almost just as secretly as they arrive and with every departure, there are rumors adrift of more and more batch mates being twisted to the Dark side. Rest others are choosing sides – making one of those crucial, life-transforming decisions of their lives: GRE, CAT, GMAT, IAS…, prepared even to sell their souls to the Devil (read: sacrifice the bliss of carefree weekends) in order to gain an edge over those lesser mortals who remain clouded by uncertainties. People are changing and so are the priorities, or probably it’s just my perception that has changed. World around seems clearer, if not better. The insecurities of adolescence are giving way to concerns of entirely different kinds and a graveness of sorts has crept in, where existed until only a while  ago, an innocuous indifference.

The usual night-long bakar sessions are a thing of past. Though still fondly remembered, they have given way to random Google Group activities and certain other awful, inexcusable acts like taking shots of the whole batch’s course grades and then tenaciously compiling them before posting it for everyone’s benefit on the aforementioned groups (The icing on the cake was really the mails that followed, with everyone desperate to garner accolades for the dastardly act.).
Bhawan CCs are no longer home to the wildly, almost grotesquely, colorful games. The cheers, jeers, whoops and those long un-punctuated strings of profanities have been replaced by dull, morbid faces lit up with a fell hunger for foreign internships. Of course, the admin had their own plans. Nothing less than prayers would convince the ubiquitous Gmail to open. It was almost bitter-sweet to see Gmail loading in Basic mode; meant for slow connections, even that seemed too much for our poor wi-fi.

That apart, the insti is changing. High-rises are shooting up everywhere, as if by consuming the greenery that existed at those places a while ago. A Student Activity Centre (SAC) is intended to come up, somewhere in the gaon, which may very well be on its way for a makeover. The all-too-familiar Nesci, that has been witness to truancy and romance for over ages may soon then perish, surviving solely in the memories of its famished frequenters. An unfortunate fallout of development, so similar to those of growing up…
Ever so often, the thoughts linger on those innumerous, wonderful dreams that were conceived of a mind unrestrained; of strangled dreams, abandoned on the path of adulthood just so that each one of us could confirm to the norms of this world. We all wish to be different, and yet are scared to take the risk of following the path less travelled, hugging close to the comforts offered by a crowd. They say everyone is special… but then that’s just a way of saying that no one really is.