One Fine Morning
One fine morning … I bulb.
"Gosh, I have not slept in days! Man I better go for classes
today."
Run to MSB, find a near extinct last bench and just do it.
Sleep… after so long. A deep, dreamful sleep from 8 to 9.
Some good soul wakes me up for attendance and back to
"work" again. The next prof to continue where the
previous one left off.
"Man, these guys are good."
Then at 9:15, loud shrieks rip through the severe ambience, my
dreams shattered akin a mirror fallen from the heights of my
room. "What on earth could make such noise?" What on
earth could make such a noise?" thought I.
Oh yes! This has to emanate from the goddamn - guptan dungeon, A
bastard file carving into a U-section. No these are the cries of
a soul torn away from its peace, its will, its hope, its
everything. A cry from the heart "somebody… save
me."(Not in a Jim Carey style please). These thoughts take
me back to the times when even I was a … freshie!
Heavens, the backbreaking ED sessions, the nerve racking physics
lab hour, the time spent with stinking chemicals and the
chemistry lab and all the toil and sweat wasted at the workshop.
With these thoughts, I drift back to sleep lullabied by the sweet
prof of mine who could give any granny a complex. But only this
time the sweet dreams were replaced with the worst nightmare of
all "BEING A FRESHIE AGAIN!"
All through physics, math and chem. fundaes… . Big bulky
classes, bullshitting profs, BC enthus junta crapping about why I
should put more enthu in a 4 credit course than a 2 credit
course, other junta trying to prove their exploits at other (read
inter) courses, how sucking toe is exciting to how licking profs
rewarding.
Wait wait…, not everything was so gloomy. We did have the
best lit year ever in the history of ALAK. Long sessions with
interesting seniors like Raja, Jumbo, Shlok, Daaku, Bulb, KC,
Gajju, Chandru, Moin… Richa, Rapa, Spock, Mac, Kissi…
The first convo man, Dog, PK, Garry, etc etc. A couple of us
ragged under cameras cool eh.
The first second show QT, Mallu & me, leave this place at
9:00 in an auto to devi. Zeta Jones what a babe . Me in my tennis
shorts, hawaii chappals and my typical green T shirt {torn by
Saras junta last holi} Ghosh's diwali celebrations, cricket &
footer & hockey under floods. Waiting for hostel nite
invitees, decking the hostel up like a Gaulish village.
Another prof walks in, I realize a gooder soul gave me a proxy.
Shit, I have had enough; I need some real sleep… back to the
room.
Why did I ever get up today morning?
Why did I have that shitty upma?
Why did I ever take a lift from a lonely vandi?
Why did I ever come to g class on a Monday morning?
But god, I still ask, "Why did u ever make the Goodman
Guptan duo?"
My hairs is muddled, my legs waivery, my eyes droopy. My
thoughts… dead.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Syd #363