Shuruaat / Aarambha!

Life in the Hostel
I've heard that the period between the entrance to and exit from a hostel is gratifying at many levels. I've also seen and heard how the initial days at the hostel can be emotionally backbreaking for some people. And obviously my story will be a bit hatke and a lot more..well, lets say..embarrassing.[no offense to my family here]!
Conventionally, highly charged emotional scenes precede your farewell. Mine was well, if anything, almost comical.It included scenes of bed wetting[ water from water bottle on the bed, hide and seek with the musambi peels, dysfunctional loo and many more.
The highlight of the day had to be when the 5 of us crammed up in the tiny Maruti 800, and listened to renderings of my sister's favorite songs, romantically sung for my brother-in-law. What was not-so-surprising was the unadulterated happiness on mum's face, and 'Is-this-really-happening' expression on my brother's face.
Unwilling to say goodbye just yet, we stayed there and listened to the songs until dad could take no more. :D
So we bid farewell amicably, on the outside.
I was hit by a wave of sadness when I hugged dad, mom and Varsha, but dad's was most intense! We all took comfort in the fact that I''ll be visiting weekends.
Phase 2: Making friends: Species 1:Absolutely comical and mental. I needed a few extra days to get adjusted, but now All izz well!
Species 2: Well,I'd just like to say, grow up girls! It's the real world, and the immature snide remarks aren't helping anybody.
More updates coming soon
Signing off for now, Fa la la la la la to you!:)

Bus Diary

An invisible protective bubble of silence closes around her. It embraces her, clamps her firmly in its protection. The inaudible soft tune carried by a zephyr caresses her. The thundering and roaring din around her fails to distract her from her protective bubble. She closes her eyes, melts into the nothingness around her. Several people pass her by, but she is only aware of the tune that has enraptured her. She is vaguely aware of the people surrounding her. She can sense them, but cannot feel them. She has no qualms about relishing in her solitude amidst a crowd of people. The people within a few feet from her can sense her strangeness and prefer to keep away from her.

The time is 6:10 pm and she’s seated in the bus number 4b. ‘She’ happens to be me. I wanted to experiment with referring to myself in the third person and see how it would turn out. Pretty weird I must tell you. If I hadn’t been the author of this article, I would say the paragraph was a prelude to a story about a lone woman-in-a-man’s-world type. Or an adult fiction. Or a lead up thriller awaiting the entry of masked men armed with hi-tech weapons that could transfer souls from one body to another.

Anyway, I digress, a lot. I know.

Let’s get back into the story. And I will still refer to me as her. I would like to see how the experiment turns out.

So the bus 4B, Seat number 3, by the Aisle. She does not like window seats. Not anymore. Not since she moved from her home and relocated to a new place by the zoo. The wind blowing in her face reminds her of all the best things in life. The best things remind her of her home. The embracing lush green welcoming she received when she entered her colony, zooming past her cycle in the empty roads, smiling to oblivion, smiling at the tall eucalyptus trees that flanked the road, inhaling their scent, dodging not just dogs but also snakes on the way; the list seemed to go on forever. The swimming lessons, the cycle ride to the school, the last talk of the day with her friends, the final moments of chatter, everything comes rushing back to her in a few quick seconds and manage to punch a hole right through her guts. She cringes at the thought of not being able to take a peek at the vast expanse of trees from her doorstep. For the past 22 years she was in an absolutely delicious paradise. Every day began with a smile on her face and a Bournvita in her hand, courtesy ma. A simple gust of wind could do all this to her. Just one blow of breeze was enough to suck her happiness away. So, ever since she had moved, she vowed to never sit near the window. The aisle seat was hers to claim.

And the third party experiment is over!**

Anyway, getting back to the topic, 4B- The bus I have and will be boarding for the next couple of weeks. I have never been good with introducing myself to people and hitting off instantly, and ofcourse, I like the protective bubble. I take my time, observe and dissect the behavior and then make my move. In doing so, I have come across a few idiosyncratic characters.

1) I-talk-only-Hindi-over-phones-lady- I would love to say that she comes traipsing in with the Nokia sliding phone in her hand and constantly jabbers aloud much to the annoyance of the people around. But honestly, she’s pretty ok. Except for the fact that she gives way too much business to her telecom service providers...Bah! Like they haven’t raked in enough moolah with the 2g spectrum! Perspective, people!

2) Paper-Reading-First-Bench-Uncle: Well he looks old! [But he’s in IT. So I guess he can’t be older than 40!] Anyway, Paper-Reading-First-Bench-Uncle is always accompanied by I-talk-only-Hindi-over-phones-lady on the first bench. Initially I happened to occupy this Holy Grail and had to be at the receiving end of sideways glances and hooked eyebrows of onlookers.

3) Oh-That-EEE-girl-with-a couple-of-flings-in-Engg-Coll: Yah! Someone I can bitch about! Always over the phone, can try and compete with I-talk-only-Hindi-over-phones-lady. She happened to be my relative’s classmate! I remember that the Emaciated-guy-with-specs had a thing for her and the Short girl who in turn had a thing for him didn’t approve of it... Back then ’ Yappa! So gross..!Really?! She and him?’ was the response. The response followed by ‘Mm-hum’ sounds and hooked Komolika eyebrows. God! I was oh so corny back then! Ok...That’s information enough I guess

Anyway moving on,

4) LittleGirl- who happens to be married, is always on a marathon talks all through the journey. Demure and short, she listens to romantic songs on the cell phone all the time [Her face betrays the emotion]. At one point of time it looked like she was singing Sahaana from Robot. I stared at her long enough for her to stare back and resume her demure look. Who knows, if I had been discreet enough I would’ve had a glimpse of a few Robo steps also.

5) Aunty-with-an-iPhone4- She walks Hercules, like the whole wide world rests on her shoulder. No smiles. Only serious Damn-no-window-seat expressions! And the expression gets uglier if a 3^rd person sits in the three seater of the bus. And her favorite time pass happens to be critically examining the photos of her kids in full zoom. At one point of time the zoom point was focused at her child’s nostrils. You have an iPhone4 and all you do is examine nostrils… C’mon aunty! Drink some red bull and get a life! I do more with my C3 than you do with your iPhone!

More characters remain to be uncovered.

Sadly, to this day, I haven’t befriended any of the above characters. Life will truly complete a full circle the day these people add me on FB. ;)

**It just started sounding weird after a while :P

Reminiscences..

As the final days of college were drawing to a close, I remember sitting in a BMTC bus with Manisha, and fussing about my non-functioning tear glands. Manisha, god bless her, happened to be a non-crying freak as well. We were discussing about who gets to bring glycerin and who gets to bring a tissues on the graduation day. We had these conversations quite a few times simply for the sake of calming our frayed nerves. After having received a message on the morning of the graduation day, I started panicking. The message said," Last day of college..blah blah...been a great journey..blah blah..WEAR WATER PROOF EYE MAKEUP". I panicked, not because the college days were numbered, but because I knew fully well that I wasn't capable of shedding a tear in public view. What good would a water proof eye make up do?!

I braced myself for the occasion, dreading the final moments were people would start bawling like babies. I somehow had lost hope of Manisha's no-tear solidarity as well, because deep down, she's a real softy. As for me, you could probably mine granite deep deep down. The moments came, and thankfully, no one really shed a tear. I heaved a sigh of relief and went with the normal flow of things. It wasn't that I was going to miss college life, it was simply that I could count my friends on the palm of my hand and knew I could always count on them. [Those people need no naming, they'll recognize themselves quite easily.]The" end" never really hit me or made any sense to me. Sure, I was wistful..but that was all I had.

After a year of having left college, after saying a million times how much I miss college[ Sadly, not enough to bawl ] I chanced upon the finale of a college based soap called 'Greek'. The serial is against what education systems stand for- discipline, punctuality,etc . It's mostly about stoned guys making out with drunk chics , without any memory of it the next morning.

Over the episodes it became quite watchable, and predictably, I became a regular of the show.However, to my surprise, the finale addressed a few relevant issues so subtly that it blew my mind away!For a serial that generally showcases drinks and parties all the time, the finale featured a senior bidding farewell to his Frat house, a junior rising up to the challenge of leading the newbies, the goodbyes, the patching up, the welling of tears, bracing for a tough life ahead, of conquering fears , all in all, of making life a grand affair, really is a treat to watch. And so, I cried! I cried like a little girl!Reminded of what I haven't done, who I've stood up for , who I've fought with, who and what I've endured and what awaits me, I simply let the flood gates open.End result-The after-effects being, me, penning down this post and you, skimming through it.

So, in short, my tear glands are working fine[Thank you very much]

And here's to friends..family..and Life!

Scarred and Scared

The curtain between reality and pretense

Is thinning away, faster than I could've fathomed.

The knocks have been getting louder;

Haunting and nettling its way into my world.

Unaware of what I see and I don't.

Of what I love and what I like.

I am a stranger to myself,

Uncomfortable in my own solitude.

My conscience is stripped to its threadbare,

Stripped of all the trinket like morality.

This is no zephyr,but a gale,

Probing its way like a needle heartily.

Help me, I say to the stranger within me,

Afraid to confide in a comrade,

The stranger simply stares at herself,

Helpless and scared, a ghost without an aide.

Nosy Affair!

I have compiled a list of the different places and how my nose feels about it:

Malleshwaram- Flowery

Basavangudi - Spicy

HMT Colony- Sugary!:)

BMS College - smells like Life!

Tamil nadu -Agarbatthis!

Kerala- Coconutty..[obviously]

Mysore-Chaat Like!!

Beaches-Ecstacy!

Jam!!

Okay, I intended to write again. I intended to call upon the power of the words to emulate the color and fervor that surrounded me.The color was black and the fervor was non-existent.
The black stood for the smoky environment that I was enveloped in. The non-existent fervor related to the enthusiasm of the people who were around me.
At around 7:21 pm on the 23rd of February, the bustling ring road on BEL Circle that accommodates approximately 500 vehicles every minute ground to a noisy halt. Travelers across all professions had their patience tested for at least half an hour. The halt ensued till a traffic free road was paved for a minister, who rode away in a gleaming white car, flanked by 10 other cars.
Understandable that a minister holds a high position, and that his work affects the life of thousands of lay people[In an ideal scenario, that is]. Statistically speaking, a traffic jam of this magnitude easily robs 5000 rupees from the public every minute. Make this a daily occurrence in different parts of the city, multiply it by the traffic density and the inflated prices of petroleum, and voila! there goes your tax slinking its way through your lungs and there goes the time you set aside for your family. The only positive outcome of this is that the people are becoming aware of what they're losing by playing mute to such incidents. Awareness leads to fervor-the bustling, existent kind that sucks the inertia out of people.
Let's be aware. Let us look out for each other.Otherwise, the Linkin Park's prophecy "In the end..." is sure to come true..!

PS-I hope,when the time comes, 'It does truly matter!!!'

Blah!

Life sucks and then you die
Life rocks, and you die anyway
Anyday,anywhere, anyplace
It amply drips like mayonnaise on a subway.

Look into the mirror hopes kindle,
Look into my past,and they suddenly dwindle

Listen to songs that wet my eyes,
Dream of nightmares that wet my pants.
Pride, ego, happiness and lies
The emoticon soldier in my mind chants.

Its a fricking maze
I'm in a endless chase..
For what or why..I know naught
God help me..and cut this agony short!