Maybe too soon

It was yesterday that I found myself startled at what I was thinking. Of course, it happens often that I find myself startled at what I am thinking, but yesterday was different. I realized that soon, someday I am going to actually miss the one fact that I loathe in life now…. college.

Its a bit irritating, to think that probably all those “I don’t care a @%^& about this rat-hole” statements may soon become very subdued, and mouthed in low voices that do not actually mean as much as they should. Its good ‘upgrading’ in life. But, at every end-beginning scenario, there seems to be the threat of nostalgia.

The national workshop was okay. I did not as much attend it as I should have, I was running around for the simple sake that I did not want to be stuck in there. So I guess, it was okay. There was the major pre-workshop stuff that we had been arranging for what seems like 3 weeks and still at the end of it, I felt there was a lot more missed. Blame it on …..

There was Aparna, Ranjani, Pari, Daniel and others with me. Hey, I realized that I am going to miss this crowd really really soon. It was not a great place to have met you people ( translated-college ) but you were great people to have met anyway.

Placement office mokkais, Aparna-Pari kadalais, supposedly important student council meetings, Sudha and her heeled slippers, the “real-short lunch hours”, the mess crowd and our special table, Aparna-Aishwaya tiffs ( I always found those silly ), robot-designing sessions ( those are still a big laugh ), planning for culturals, writing stupid poems in class, silly bickerings…. ( I guess most of us never grew up after schooling got done ).

Now, a month to go and then the projects.

And after that, maybe nostalgia, the way school life has come to be.

Still, there is a month of fun to go, and I don’t want to rush through it. Maybe I can plan more meets and less class hours .

Today

Was not a very dramatic day. An ordinary one. And I am writing this stuff because I promised myself that I would not let this blog vanish into the mist of forgotten old rubbish. It would rather be just written, crisp, yet mundane rubbish.

I really did not want to go to college today. Actually, I never want to go to college. Approaching the fag end of my undergrad years, I actually wish for a lot more spice. Not bland days that reek of formality. I try my maximum to disappear from classes whenever I can, but always get stuck later with the explaining OD sessions. Looks like too many people want me to be at too many places at a time, with the result that I end up strolling up the walkways and down the walkways in a dazed state of why-the-hell-am-I-just-walking?

Still, there was me, handing out chocolates for my supposedly great GRE score (this is common in a college that is starved of achievers or whatever adjective you would choose to grant people like me). And there I was, getting my medical leave certificate approved. Now, that was an easy job, considering I had good news and sweets, the staff were quite willing to sign anywhere.

I found myself laughing over a small anecdote that Deepika shared. Well, she is a peer, who looks cute and acts cute and keeps smiling. She had lost her glasses on a class tour, and had followed a group of students who were from another college into their bus. Simply because she could not see what was a metre away from her, and because she heard them speak tamizh. It was so funny then, now,I really fail to see much reason to overdo any smile that might arise. Might have been the cute, gushed whisper that she related the incident in, that added to the drama.

Aparna was, as ever with me, and we collected money from Pari for that Art of Living thing of hers. Pari always seems to be handing over money, where it concerns Aparna; but anybody else has to shell out either money or a treat to him, as he strides about demanding. Now, Pari, if you are reading this, don’t comment saying I owe you 8 munches and 3 treats at Cafe Coffee Day. I remember, and well… maybe some day when I start earning. You know, dignity of earning money and satisfaction at treating friends with it and all that stuff. Reason more if you want to. Till then, drop in any day to have lunch at home.

Back in class, I had 5 consecutive free periods ( that is 45 minutes each, which makes that 3 hours and 45 minutes ) and I started and finished ‘One night at the call centre’ by Chetan Bhagat. So, Mr. Bhagat, it wasn’t an exactly great book, and I stifled innumerable yawns through it. Considering my insomnia for the past couple of days, I guess I can’t completely blame you, yet don’t you feel that the book was grossly simple? I mean, even I could have written stuff that quotidian, and I guess that is a bad insult to it.

Back home, I was in serious contemplation as to what would be my worthwhile next task and as I blog, I guess I will have to university-search again for a few friends, so a wave and bye.