Archive for May 2010
Every school lives in the delusion that it is the sole beacon of light in the otherwise pathetic lives of its students. Mine was no different. Two years and two months ago, this school housing half of Chennai’s nerd-dom (the other half can be found here) organized a farewell, intended to be a soul-wrenching event of importance far exceeding the national elections and the release of Blu-Ray. It was by all means a morbid affair, boys dancing and girls singing (yes, and not the other way around), half-a-dozen speeches and few whatdyacall’ems which I seem to have conveniently forgotten. I do however, remember placing bets (remember kids, gambling is bad) with great passion and furious sadism as to which of my friends would shed tears and which ones would end up getting senti. Sentimentality is for losers, I had then opined, with wisdom that could be matched by none but the Pope and Joey Tribbiani. Back to the future, it is ironic that I have become the very ghost I had once mocked. Perhaps age does make you emotional, as the results of a recent psychological study suggest.
I had initially decided to christen this post “Sopho-no-more” – a tribute to a semester with a few unforgettable and a million forgettable incidents. So much to take home, and yet when I’m sixty four all the memories I’ll cherish will owe their existence to a sad white report card which shall further emphasize my cumulative fall from grace. (2,2) is probably R-land’s brilliant compensation for the sham(e)s to follow (read (4,2) ). I never thought a day would come when I would have no time for facebook almighty; this is precisely what this semester does to you. Countless night outs, sacrifices on the eve of the examination, getting beaten by a software whose makers thought having a chameleon as its icon would make it all the more happening, and disappointments, all worth enduring for just a couple of pats on the back. Among others, I wish to remember this sem as the one in which I finally got to watch “The Last one”, an episode which just about edges “The one which could have been” from the apex of the ten saddest excuses for F.R.I.E.N.D.S episodes. Watching Messrs Kauffman, Bright and Crane stoop (ascend?) to K-Jo’s emo-shunal level with the “They lived happily ever-waitforit-after” ending does make one wonder about the futility of life, forty two and all that jazz.
I attended my first DP a couple o weeks back, albeit as a mere spectator. Watching the usual suspects in a helpless state strangely transported me back to my first semester. For the naive fresher who had travelled a thousand miles, these were the ones who had it done it all, possessing infinite talent that one could only dream of, I had then thought. Pragmatism seems to have gotten the better of me today, but yet old adulations indeed die hard. One committed moron replaces another and yet in front of Dawggy-boy’s tree, I am a still a starry-eyed kid listening with rapt attention to a fat man’s cries for ideas. Another unfamiliar face shall greet me in G-27 when I barge in to drag the cheap chief off for a cup of kapi that I shall once again be forced to pay for. Gundas, air guitarists, Tigers and weirdos of all shapes and sizes who can claim the word velagiri to be their own, I shall spot them all in Rajendra next sem. And yet, when I return fulfilling the obvious prophecy by becoming a senior, Roorkee would be truly empty. Two days ago, they got me to trade my heroes for ghosts and I still don’t have any parting words, last-minute-jokes, or senti monologues. So it is but befitting that I end with a great man’s immortal lines (please do watch the video, I promise, it’s worth it).
We will meet.