Do you believe in miracles?

“Do you believe in miracles?”

With the wind whistling in my ears as I rode the bike back, I glanced around at the teary eyed face of my pillion.

“So, do you believe in miracles?” She asked again.

“NO!” I said and raced towards the fly over that read ‘Pune: 9 km’…

It feels so weird when you see someone after that long a time. Speechless describes it best. And boy had she changed. I had totally forgotten what she looked like, but we met as if we had met just yesterday. Soon we met others, people forgotten in the sands of time who were nothing like what they used to be. We remembered all the little things we had left behind in the race to grow up, small little things that defined us in the past.

Her voice brought me back from my flashback.

“Why?”

My speedometer was clocking a constant 70. I glanced down at it and then back on the road. It was pretty much empty with the occasional car speeding past.

“No idea…never happened to me” I shrugged.

True love is so hard to find. A single thing can break your heart even after 4 years of togetherness. What does one do then? How does one move on? How do you get over that person who had been your entire existence? Answers to the above questions I don’t have and neither do I know anyone who does.

You are lucky if you can turn you back on what was and embrace what could be. Most people can’t but some can. And what would you give to just meet the one person who held your side all along?

Thoughts clouded my mind. The reason I was driving back from a near remote location located on the outskirts of the city were unknown to even me. All I knew was that I was doing it. I had just helped two people in love meet. Was this a miracle? No idea never happened to me.

The parking lot loomed into view. I got her back home. As she got down from the bike, I knew what she wanted to say. She gave me a hug and said thanks. Was the trip a miracle for her? Or was it the chance meeting of the two, I would never find out but all I knew was that something had happened today to turn her into this. Wondrous how a small thing can turn someone from an atheist to a believer in miracles. She had witnessed one today.

So do I believe in miracles? No clue never happened to me. If miracles were real, I would have gotten what I had asked for. Will I get it, I don’t know but I guess I can wait…

To be continued… 

Diveagar Trip

Destination: Diveagar (170 km from Pune)

Transportation: 2 cars 2 bikes

Travellers: 13

Duration: 20 hrs

It was on the 10th of June 2010. The exams had just gotten over and the end of semesters brought with it a sense of freedom that just needed to be satiated.

5:30 A.M sharp, all dressed and packed, we arrived at the meeting point.

6:00 A.M we had filled fuel (25 l each in the cars) and it was time to start.

With a large number of stoppages for chai n wadapav, we finally managed to hit our destination by late noon. The sight that awaited us there was, in plain words, splendid. With literally no crowd thronging the place as other beaches usually have, Diveagar gave us an unique experience.

3:00 P.M the football came out of the bag

5:30 P.M was time to leave. So tired and wet, we climbed on board our respective vehicles and started back

7:00 P.M Mangaon. With stomachs rumbling, we set out to find a cheap place to hog.

9:00 P.M we restart for home with the promises that we'll reach by 11. Yea rite.

11:30 P.M Mulshi Ghat, one of the cars breaks down. The mechanical engineer steps out to try his hand at the situation. A nearby hut is knocked open to beg for petrol (70 Rs a litre). And this was where the combined intelligence of multiple engineers came to the rescue :)

12:00 A.M With the car finally up and running, for one final time we headed home...

2:00 A.M A bell rings at my home announcing my arrival to my then very sleepy (not to mention angry mom). After a quick bath and some food, I finally settle for the night.

New experiences: Swimming and Car repairing :D

This post is a thanks to Kartik, Bhalta, Amol, Zeeshan, Chaman, Nabin, Anup, Kancha Gang n Chaman's friends...

The Fat Man Sings

To look backward for a while is to refresh the eye, to restore it, and to render it the more fit for its prime function of looking forward. ~Margaret Fairless Barber, The Roadmender

By midsummer of 2006, two months after my final escape from the gulag of high school, I found myself in the frightful predicament of having to go to college. As I sat with the list of colleges I had applied for, Dad very simply pointed out that AIT was by far the best of them all. Hence began my journey.

I still remember my first day here. I walked in, my head held high because I'd made it into one of the finest colleges but that misconception was quickly corrected by a senior who rather forcefully notified me of the "Norms" that I had to follow to "Survive" here. With a now heightened survival instinct I geared up for the first quarter of my life here.

The foray into the unknown world combined with the added ‘freedom’ was challenging; New friends, exposure to new cultures, myriad of clubs, variety of girls, frequent ‘belt’ parties, movies, new mobile phone, submissions, one night preparations, horrible mess food, one side crushes, a bare second class, the year was over in a flash.

The second year came with the entry into a new department; New roommates, contact with girls, English play in Akriti ’07, new FEs entering to find nice receptive seniors (pun intended!), BAD(?!) habits, finding new close friends, One night @ a call centre, first downs and a pass class.

Scribtip was a brand new addition. From bringing out my very own eMage (Val day issue) to sitting up till 4 am in the morning designing pages for the magazine, the magboard honed my photoshopping skills to say the least (not to mention saved my skin from the attendance fine). Submissions were a pain. With my train ticket cancelled and having signed a defaulter form for all three submissions, I found myself homebound in the “Army dabba” with nothing but a 1 rupee coin as my sole worth.

The rains gave way to the penultimate year of my engineering. Armed with an arsenal of downs I marched into the new semester fearing the worst. The new flank was positively “scary”. Soon the new Fes arrived bringing with them the first wave of nostalgia. Akriti ’08; probably my finest ever, the devil’s green faced minion, debate runners up, JAM (courtesy chatty) and LIMS which definitely held my interest the most.

It was this time that a girl sang her way into my heart; the girl who would come to change life as I knew it in AIT. With my hopes of reaching BE looking bleak especially with a killer critical, taking refuge in books was the only option left. Finally after almost a month worth of exams I was free or was I? I would have to wait a few more months to find out.

One of the most intoxicating and exotic experiences that are a part of the final year at college is the shocking expanses of unsupervised free time that stretch out before you. Long weekends, with nothing to do and nowhere to be. Be brought with it a marked change; becoming a day scholar, new bike, new place to call home, rules and regulations, time constraints, improved attendance, impressed teachers, placement and distinction, the year marks an end to the adventurous time I had experienced in AIT.

The last four years have the most magnificent years of my life and one and a half pages are clearly too less to speak of them all. All the excitement, heartbreaks, responsibilities, acquaintances, knowledge and experiences have made me ready to face the outside world as I step into it. The four years might have ended quickly but the memories of the wonderful time I had will never cease to exist in my mind, neither will the memories of the people who made this journey worthwhile.

The tide recedes, but leaves behind bright seashells on the sand.
The sun goes down, but gentle warmth still lingers in the land,
The music stops, and yet it echoes on in sweet refrains...
For every joy that passes, something beautiful remains.
Adios AIT!!!

Random Shots

A few snaps that I have taken here and there...

The F- Fighters I

F-1 Fury

The North American FJ-1 Fury was the first operational jet aircraft in United States Navy service, and was developed by North American Aviation as the NA-135.

F-2 Banshee

The McDonnell F2H Banshee was a military single-seat carrier-based jet fighter aircraft deployed by the United States Navy and United States Marine Corps from 1948 to 196

F-3 Demon

The McDonnell F3H Demon was a subsonic swept-wing United States Navy carrier-based jet fighter aircraft. After severe problems with Westinghouse J40 engine that was ultimately abandoned, the successor to the F2H Banshee served starting in 1956redesigned with the J71 engine

F-4 Phantom

The McDonnell Douglas F-4 Phantom II is a tandem two-seat, twin-engined, all-weather, long-range supersonic jet interceptor fighter/fighter-bomber originally developed for the U.S. Navy by McDonnell Aircraft

F-5 Freedom Fighter ( and F-5E Tiger 2)

The Northrop F-5A/B Freedom Fighter and F-5E/F Tiger II are part of a family of widely used light supersonic fighter aircraft, designed and built by Northrop in theUnited States, beginning in 1960s.

F-6 Skyray

The Douglas F4D Skyray (later redesignated F-6 Skyray) was an American carrier-based fighter/interceptor built by the Douglas Aircraft Company. Although it was in service for a relatively short time and never entered combat, it was notable for being the first carrier-launched aircraft to hold the world's absolute speed record

3 Idiots

Adarniya sabhapati mahodaya, atithi vishesh shikshan mantri shri R D tripati ji, maanyaniya shikshagan aur mere piyaaare sahpatiyo

Aaj agar I.C.E aasmaan ki bulaaandiyo ko chhu raahaa hai to uska shreya sirrf ekinsaan ko jaataahai - Shri Veeru Sahastrabuddhe

Give him a big hand. He is a great guy really.

Peechle buttis saal se inhone nirantar is college mein balatkar pe balatkar kiye. Umeed hai aagey bee karte rahege. Hamein to aashcharya hota hai ki ek insaan apne jeevan kaal mein itni balatkar kaisi kar sakta hai. Inhone kadi tapaasya se apne aapko is kaabil bunaya hai. Waqt ka sahi upyog ghante ka purna istemaal koi inse seeke. Seeke inse seeke. Aaj hum sab chaatra yaha hai, kal desh videsh mein fail jayenge. Waadaa hai aapse jis desh mein honge waha balatkar karenge, I.C.E ka naam roshan karenge. Dika denge sabko jo balatkar Karne ki kshamtaa yaha ke chaatro mein hai wo sansaar ke kisi chaatro mein nahiii. No other chaatra. No other chaatra.

Adarniya mantraji! Namashkar aapne is sansthaan ko wo chees di jiski hamein sakht zaroorat thi. “Sstunn”! Stunn hota sabi ke paas hai. Sab chupa ke rakte hai, detaa koi nai. Aapne apna stun is balatkari purush ke haat mein diya hai, ab dekiye yeh kaisa iska upyog karta hai

Utthamum dadhdadaath paadam - Madhyam paadam thuchuk chuk - Ghanisthah thud thudi paadam - Surr surri praan gatakam.

The Diary of Dreams

May 20th:

She stared at the empty page in front of her. She reclined into a more comfortable position on her bed and stared at the diary again. It was early morning and she could see the faint rays of the sun beginning to seep in through the curtained windows. She tried to recall the dream she had last night, but couldn't seem to recall any. Did she then not dream at all? She flipped the pages of her diary. She had maintained a dream diary ever since she could remember and yet she had nothing to write in it today. All of her last posts spoke of him.

Anamika had met him in her second year at Law school. One rowdy hooligan he was, always hanging by at the bus stop with his usual gang of cronies. He had an air of some gang leader about him. But one fine day he had decided to come and talk to her. May be he wasn't a bad person after all. Slowly feelings changed and she found herself falling for him. Was this what was called "made for each other"?

But shit happened. They got separated due to her work reasons. She was really upset about it and blamed herself for it, but he made her see reason. The first few months were unbearable but she got used to it. She would actually wait the whole day just so that she could hear his voice or one message from him would set her alive. But an LDR is not called bad for any reason. The frequency of him calling/messaging decreased slowly over time. He used to come to meet her once a month but later even that became a rarity. She knew that no amount of time and distance could shake her feelings for him but did he feel the same? For almost two years they hadn't met at all. Things were different now.

She looked at her hand. The diamond set in her ring was glinting in the early morning light. She was engaged now. She hoped he had acted sooner. It would have saved her a lot of pain. But she was happy now. Her fiance was still asleep. She closed the diary with a sigh. The Diary of Dreams.

She got up and quietly went towards the kitchen. Breakfast in Bed seemed a good thing.

The Memoirs of a Relatioship

May 19th:

He stared down at the blank page open in his diary. He scratched his head with his pen and then took the diary up in his hands. A small smile played on his lips. He slowly crossed over from the desk and flopped down on the bed, switching on the bed side lamp as he went. Today he would rather read the diary rather than write in it. He started flipping through the pages and came to stop at a random page. A single torn page was carefully folded in here. He took out the torn page, now yellowed with time and carefully opened it. A drop of tear momentarily appeared at the corner of his eyes before falling down on his lap. The page was a torn fragment from another diary, her diary.
Shobhit had met her when he was in his third year in Dental college. A cute little doll she was then, always so meek and eyes that spoke so much. He liked her from the moment he laid eyes on her. He used to hang out after college just to get a glimpse of her. Soon bravery found him and he mustered enough courage to go and talk to her. Time passed and friendship turned into a relationship. They seemed so "made for each other". He was in love.
Eventually he landed a job in Bangalore and had to go away. Promises were made and tears were shed. The first year went smooth. They used to talk and text a lot. He would even take out time to visit her once a month. Slowly even that died out. He had learnt to bear the pain and so did she too he hoped. Now it had been 2 years that they had met. He had decided that it was about that he made his final decision. He would pay her one last visit. This was one month ago.
Shaking himself out of the flash back he had gone into, he re-read the page again. She was a dreamer, that one. A couple kissing at the Eiffel Tower. He recalled that she also liked roaming around a lot. Her dream was a world tour. Dreamer indeed. He stole a look at the now sleeping figure of his wife-to-be. Smiling down at the page now, he wiped away the second drop of tear. He was happy to have taken that decision a month back. He carefully placed the torn page at the last entry in the diary. May 19th:, he looked at the blank page again. The he slowly closed the diary and momentarily held it in his hands. The Memoirs of a Relationship.
Putting it aside he switched off the bed lamp, kissed the now fast asleep form next to him and went to sleep.