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!!!

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.