Nee thane en ponvasantham – Chapter I

Bonggg...Bonggg... Bonggg...Echoed my school bell reverberating in the small ground, struggling to die faster partially due to the cold morning air. I jogged towards my class having come late for the third time that week, thinking of all plausible excuses, trying hard to remember which ones I have already used and which ones are available. ‘Man I GOT to get up earlier from now on!’ I just stepped into my classroom when the sound of the last bell receded slowly dissipating along with it the morning cheeriness leaving faint traces of seriousness in the air around me.

The Morning Prayer was already blaring down on students from overhead speakers in every classroom. My friends inside had that annoying smirk and some made faces at me trying to catch my attention, to make me laugh, while I struggled to maintain a straight face under my teacher's glare. ‘Ok, don't laugh, don't laugh, you had fever, you are coming straight from the doctors' and that’s why you are late... Don’t laugh, just please don't...’

Gods must have pitied me then, for there was an announcement immediately after the prayer. They read out the list of students who will be part of the school annual day play. Now one thing you got to know about my school is - it’s very orthodox. Any play it organizes will most likely have 10 bajans and 20 devotional songs with dance performances in between. But the upside is participants need not attend most of the classes for a really long time.

  “Sathyanarayanan, Vignesh, Balakrishnan, Amarnath, Pavan...” the list went on for a few more minutes. More to escape from my class teacher and the lesson about Adisankara, Madhvacharya and their great deeds to humanity she will be taking today, than anything, I gladly welcomed this diversion.

  “Epdiyo escape aitta!” (Somehow you got away with it!) thumped Vignesh on my back a few minutes later. I had escaped from what, I feared and my friends hoped was a sure shot blasting from class ma’am. "Luck da! Seri vidu, what is the drama about?"- me. "The life and teachings of Adisankaracharya", he replied. We paused for a minute looking at each other and rolled back laughing at the irony. Nevertheless it was good being out on a beautiful day like that. The sun was playing truant much like us and there was a slight drizzling from morning causing that heavenly smell of rain with mud to fill up the grounds. The corridors we were walking overlooked the grounds giving us the outdoorsy feel without actually being out.

"That's not even the bad part, I heard we might be in dancing as well” Vignesh was muttering, walking by my side. I vaguely wondered what my role would be, mentally weighing the history class I bunked and the play, on a balance scale. Class seemed to be the slightly heavier plate. Combined with this disturbing new piece of information, class definitely looked like a much better option.

At that moment my thoughts were ever so pleasantly interrupted by the most beautiful voice I have heard. A voice so melodious in its wake that it made the sounds from the rest of the world seem like they are from rickety creaking old doors. Soft, yet carrying well through the damp air, the dulcet tone cruelly taunted the auditory senses to crave for more. Bubbly, yet calm, cheerful, yet soothing it spoiled the ears for all other sounds. "Sankara, Sankara" beckoned the magical voice in theatric manner. Immediately I had the insane urge to change my name to Sankara just so I could answer it!

I searched frantically among the group in front of me for the source and found her amidst a group of kids shrouded from view. Inching in closer I went near the group. Vignesh followed me patiently. There she was among few other girls and kids. As beautiful as her voice suggested, perhaps even more. Laughing and playing around completely oblivious to the immense effect she had on the guys around her.

“Dei Sathya enna panra?”,(Hey Sathya, What are you doing man?) smirked Vignesh looking at me. It took a complete minute for my momentarily spaced out brain to comprehend what he just said to me. As soon as it did I returned a quick grin and asked him, “Hey yaaruda ava?” (Hey who is she dude?). “Over a English la paesra. Etha teacher oda daughter a irukum nu nenaikren” (She seems to be very fluent in English. Most probably some teacher’s daughter) he replied. I absorbed what he said, thought for a second, tossed it to the back of my mind, shook my head and continued watching her. Watched one of God's finest creations moving her lips slowly practising her lines sincerely.

"Dei pothum da va polaam", (Enough dude. Come let’s leave) nudged Vignesh. "2 minutes, 2 minutes, please play parthuttu varen", (2 minutes 2 minutes, please let me watch the play and come) I replied not taking my eyes off of her. "Inum 2 months ku daily nee ‘play’ a paarka thaan da pora, ippo va polaam", (You are anyway going to see the ‘play’ every day for the next two months) he replied teasingly, figuring my ulterior motive. I turned and grinned again, nodding. Taking one more look at her, imprinting that scene with her in my memory for eternities to come I walked away with him to join my other friends.

My mental image of the weighing scale tipped fully towards the school play now. Drizzling continued as we walked to meet the other guys... We will be officially starting the drama practice from tomorrow. “I REALLY GOT to start coming early!”

God, how I love Sankaracharya and all his great deeds to humanity!

Flickering light

#Real incident

I was walking swiftly on that dimly lit deserted road. The salty Chennai breeze swept my face not helping my case of perspiration from carrying my travel bag which only got heavier with each second or every step I took. Already irritated by the bumpy ride and the filthy share auto crowd, I strode on hoping to make it in time for my train.

A distant street light from main road flickered casting its feeble light making the street glow in a mild yellow shade. It is uncommon for a Chennai street to appear this deserted on an 8p.m. night, but this street served as an exception mainly because of the inaccessibility of it by any four wheeler and not  so uncommon power cuts . Pushing away the scenes from a previous nights’ horror movie, I valiantly marched on towards the main road carefully jumping and avoiding the numerous potholes and other kinds of holes that pockmarked the street.  

I heard a faint set of footsteps and looked ahead to see a middle aged man with striped shirts and cargo trousers entering my road with a carry bag in his hand. Busy talking with someone over his phone he didn’t notice me and he continued walking ahead. I was trailing a few yards behind owing mostly to my bag’s weight. Suddenly a shuffling movement from under a tree caught my attention.

I hadn’t noticed that tree until then mainly because it was on a particularly dark side of that street. But now three figures emerged from under it. Silhouetted against the street light I could see 4 figures now. The man with the carry bag, following him closely were two short lean shadows. Following slightly behind was a slightly taller but stumpy man with shocking mess of a ragged hair.

  The shadows of the short ones looked excited almost maniacal with a kind of restless energy that even the poor lighting couldn’t veil. They moved fast towards the man but stopped short when he slowed; again speeding up when he walked. The stumpy shadow seemed like shushing the shorter ones and walked in a controlled steady rhythm. They were silently closing in on the man who was still chatting away nonchalantly in his phone.    

  My heart beats raced and I fastened my steps to warn him. At that exact moment the man with the bag seemed to slow down at a corner. The short ones went too close to him and they didn’t stop this time. The stumpy one quickened his pace as well. I broke into a run ignoring the weight of my travel bag. Just when I reached close enough to shout a warning, the man with the carry bag turned and walked away from the corner.

Confused and out of breath from running I tried to get a better look at the corner and abruptly power came on and lit up the whole street. The short lean ones were a girl and a boy of about 7 to 10 years each. They had a filthy piece of clothing covering them, torn and dirty. Their faces were covered with a mixture of mud, soot and nasal mucus. They were reduced to their bones by malnourishment. They had the carry bag that seconds before was with the man they followed. Having taken it out of the corporation waste disposal container from that corner, they were searching for anything remotely edible.  

“Appa ithula konjo idly irukuppa, Amma kitta sollunga”(Dad, Tell mom that there are some idlies in here), shouted the girl in joy having found her prize in that fly infested, rotten smelling, urine soaked container. “Seri Seri neenga rendu paerum sanda podaama sapdunga”(Ok Ok, You two share and eat without fighting) replied the stumpy man who reached there finally. He turned slowly towards me and smiled awkwardly showing his brown tobacco greased teeth with two missing in the front. I, for my part, just stood there dumbstruck at the horror and misery an everyday street light can unveil.

Love

   At that moment he agreed wholeheartedly with all those numerous people with Ph.D’s in love. There were indeed butterflies flying in the pit of his stomach. And not just ordinary butterflies. These are the kind that spread its wings and flutter to its fullest intensity, screaming of its presence whenever she comes near and reduce doing so gradually as she passes, strangely as though she is the flower they are hoping to hop onto next! After his numerous not-so-elegant episodes with other women in the past, this he decided was undoubtedly love! Oh and what a feeling it is! To stand in that bus stand wearing those Fast track coolers and a branded T-shirt (which were until yesterday in the form of a bundle of notes in his dad’s pocket) just to get a glimpse of her by the window sill.

           

       And just when he was starting to think these window episodes have lost their initial ‘kick’ they used to have on him, she smiled. She smiled a smile which was not too inviting for him to directly approach and talk to her, not too restricted to doubt if it was just a twitch of mouth or an actual smile but the right amount(the amount passed from generation to generation among girls)  that admonished even his thought that the window episodes were losing their sheen thus instantly making him a bit guilty. Yes! This must be it. The guy who struggled to get a 50% in English during his 12th has now become a man who mastered the language of eyes!

       

         “Can’t wait to see you. Come and pick me up by 8 tmr, good nit darling. Love you”. He smiled at the sms he received. It’s been almost 6 months after that killer smile. His life has changed tremendously since then. Mobile phone is next to God for him(the God being she),  missed calls have become the most romantic gifts which he received almost 10 times a day, interest in politics and GK has risen enough to notice the increase in petrol prices and life seemed to be 10 times more interesting. Getting his usual share of pocket money from his dad and brilliantly convening a lie about some coaching class, he drove early morning all the way to her meeting place to pick her up.

    

         “Hey, Sorry did u wait for a long time? I am sorry I overslept and got up late. So sorry da”, she said with that cute face.

    

        “Hey cha cha I came just 5 minutes back”, he said his anger from that 40 minutes wait vanishing in an instant. He gunned the vehicle to life. She sat nimbly with her hands on his shoulder. The vehicle as a response exceeded its startup speed.

 “Rahul, Can I ask you something?”, she mouthed after a few hundred metres.

“Yes anything”, said our hero driving his dad’s bike. 

“This mobile I have is very basic model da. Messaging and all ok. But when I miss you so much I feel like seeing you”, she said in a pained voice.

“Yeah, but you can’t come out of your house after 7 na? then how? “, not understanding how seeing him can be related to a basic mobile set.

            “ Aama, my mom is damn strict. Hmmm…But if its not too much of a problem for you, can you get me a video call mobile? I can understand if you can’t da. No problem”, she added with haste.

“Uhhmmm”, started Rahul. She butted in-

“It’s just that Nisha’s boy friend had bought one for her and its really useful for them to chat at night seeing each other, but yeah he is a bit rich… ” she said hesitantly watching his reactions in the rear view mirror. Her hand lessening its grip on his shoulder with every passing second of his silence.

“Well…” ,Her hand slid faster, Rahul already intimidated at his alpha male ego level gave in to the falling hands. “Hey don’t you worry. I will make sure you get the best 3G mobile there is by this evening, ok a?”, said he finally. “Thank you da… I know I could trust you. I love you sooooo much” she hugged him.  The butterflies did their dancing again and he could think of nothing other than how lucky he is to get this loving and caring girl in his life. Love, he thought can justify anything.

            Back home, googling the model(which she said just before leaving) she asked for, updated him that it would cost around Rs.30,000. He cursed himself for borrowing his friend’s costly mobile whenever he went to meet her.  Not wishing to step back now Rahul did the unthinkable. He took one of his mom’s golden necklaces which he calculated would come upto two thirds the sum. He decided to ask the rest 10k from his dad as a coaching class fees.

 “Ethuku da ivlo panam? (Why do you need so much money?) Already join panna courses ella paathilayae nikkuthu.”(already you have stopped in midway all the courses you joined previously), his dad enquired.

“Paiyan padikrakuthaana kekraan, konjo kodungalaen?”(Our son is asking for his studies only right? Can’t you give him?), his mom argued over the sound of the rumbling grinder from kitchen.

“Ippo la ennaala mudiyathu, yaerkanavae neraiya kadan irukku. Ivan phone bill katrakae en sambalam poiduthu” (I can’t pay him now, already we are in debts. And his phone bill itself takes up most of my salary), then seeing his forlorn face, “Seri konjo poruda, maasam porantha odanae tharaen”(Ok wait. Will give at the start of the next month), saying his dad walked away.

          Rahul cursing his poor origin and annoyed at dad’s response sat in a corner. His mom came over to him. “Ennada moonjiya umm nu vechurukka? (Why are you so dull faced), seri unga appa kitta sollatha, intha itha vecha evlo varum nu paaru”(Ok don’t tell your dad, here see how much you can get from this), saying she removed her gold ear rings and placed it in his hands. “Nalla padiknum enna?” (You should study well, ok?), she walked away back to her daily chores of cleaning and cooking as if she nothing different happened and she gave out gold ear rings on a daily basis every morning. Stunned, Rahul heard her boast to the house maid, “En magan Intha computer class a mattum mudichitta, moonu maasathula America poi kai neraiya sambathika poraanam!” (When my son finishes this class, he will go to America to earn lots)

         A single drop of tear trickled down his face. He slowly got up and as if in a trance replaced the necklace as it was. Love, he thought, is amazing. It’s the most wonderful thing there is. It can make or break anything in this world. At that moment with a crystal clear clarity every single cell in him felt his mom’s love and trust on him and for the first time in his life he paid no attention to the hormones playing as butterflies in his stomach when he heard the familiar missed call from the ‘girl from the bus stand’.   

Just another usual morning...

  A particularly loud horn sound woke me up from my slumber. I could hear the radio blaring next door doing its life's worth. Between the sounds I could also discern voices talking and shouting but slightly muffled. Probably because the door to my room was tightly shut, I thought. Now that I am awake and sunlight was pouring in through the windows I conceded my defeat in trying to go back to my sleep. I opened my eyes slightly disgruntled about the long day this is going to be and saw my mobile lying next to me. It was 8:30am.

8:30am

             Shit! Office at 9:30. Adrenaline kicked in and I brushed up, showered and got ready in no time. I unlocked the door to my room and the sounds of radio reached my ears in its full intensity. It was some latest Rajni song. We don't have a TV. Radio made up for that as much as it could. I stopped by in the living room and shouted, “Hey kelambaren da, door close panniko”(Hey I am leaving, do close the door). I received a grunt in response. In the dictionary we follow here that means an 'Ok'. If I don't receive a grunt that's when I should worry. I closed the door and descended the stairs and entered the world outside.

9am

             I was walking to the nearest bus stop. The smell from a nearby hotel reminded me both that I have skipped my breakfast and why I skipped it*. :P The street dogs were still in their morning nap (lucky them), some of them raised an ear or two when I crossed near them, but then lost interest and went back to sleep.

9:15am

            I was in the bus stop. I know office cab would have left. Instead I waited for the town bus praying it shouldn't be as crowded as it was yesterday or day before or since the day I have seen it, but knowing this is one other prayer in vain.

9:30am

             To my surprise the bus was little less crowded and I thanked God and boarded it. Immediately like any South Indian boarding a bus would do I frantically searched for a seat and found one and got seated like my life depended on it. A window side seat! These are the few surprises that essentially boosts me here. ;) My mind involuntarily calculated taking the traffic into account and came to the conclusion that it would be another 40 minutes until I reached office. I asked the conductor “ASV oru ticket kodunga” and safely pocketed the ticket he gave. Then i gazed out the window absent mindedly. It was mildly hot and the bus moving at a rhythmic pace gave admission to the occassional breeze. The warm climate, late night sleep, power cut at about 2am left its effect on me and I felt drowsy. The adrenaline rush ebbed some time back. The bus felt more like a cradle with its swaying...

6:30am

            “Sathyaaa elunthiri da! Evlo vaati ezhuppi vidrathu, night late a thungatha nu sonna kaetkriya?” (Sathyaaa Get up! How many times have I told to go to bed early?). My mom's voice sounded in distance though I know she was just few metres away. “Innum 10 mins ma, plz” ( 10 more mins Mom, please). I could hear the vessels clanging in the kitchen and some God's devotional song being played in the tape in the living room. Then there is always the mews of the numerous cats we have in my home.

7am

             “10 mins, 10 mins nu solli 7 aachu. Apram thirupiyum unakku attendance kedaikathu! Ezhunthirida” ( It's already 7. Then you won't get attendance. Get up now). Now I could hear dad's voice to waking me up. “Itho muzhuchachu muzhuchachu”. I get up lazily and take my time to brush up and finally come to living room. Mom says, “Intha coffee kudichuttu va. Kulikka thanni ready panraen”(Go and have your coffee. I will heat the water to take bath). I drink my coffee watching TV flicking through some random channels. Then I go take bath and dress up taking all the time in the world.

8 am

              “7 ku enthiruchu epdi da ivlo late panra?”- Dad's voice. Yes. I still don't know how but I finally got late for my college which is at 8 30. “College poi saptukraen ma, pasi illa” ( I will eat in college mom, not hungry). Mom will never agree saying everything is already prepared. Finally she feeds me up by walking along with me around the entire house while I search for the different things I have to take to the college. “Pothum ma, full aiduchu”(Enough mom, I am full) will always get a default reply “Itha last vai”(Here, last piece). Can never change Indian mothers! I do my last minute reading for the exam I have that day. “Yenga antha shoe pottu vidunga, padichutrukanla”(He is reading, wear him his shoes) my mom to dad. Dad does so patiently and when its done I disregard the many 'last pieces' on plate and come out. “Tataa ma, Tataa pa” touch my cat once to say tataa to him, “Bike slow va ottuda, college poitu message pannu”(Drive slowly and message when you reach college).

8 15 am

             With those words still in my ears I start my bike, nod and accelerate it. The familiar roads and the wonderful morning breeze against my face refreshes me and I continue driving with a smile looking forward to the day ahead.

             Screeeechh! “ASV ella erangunga, ASV ella erangunga” ( ASV reached, disembark). I wake up to the conductor shouting. The time was 10:15 am. I get down and walk towards my office. Life has changed. And I have come to terms with it. But not a single day had passed yet wishing it hadn't.

*- The smell of breakfast reminded me that I skipped it. But it's that I have already had bad experience in that hotel's quality. That's why the smell also told why I skipped it.

P.S I know I was pampered and am a spoilt brat :P         

My College Life...

The thought of writing down 4 yrs of my life in say some 400 lines scares me a little. (Probably the reason why I never WROTE about my school life). ‘4 years’ is a long time! I don’t want to miss out some important incidents that are in the back of my head. I don’t want to miss thanking some people who made this life memorable, and blaming others who made it miserable. :P I can’t possibly fit in this post or even in this entire blog about all the things I feel are important in 4 yrs of my college life. (3.5 till now but for comfortness sake let’s make it 4). What I do want this post to express is just things that managed to stand in front of my thoughts, some fresh, some buried with age, nevertheless equally leveled so they can easily tumble down into words.

I remember my 1^st day as good as any, beaming with pride getting the college of my dreams, with my head held very high since I scored well in 12^th, expecting special treatment and on the lookout for the reputedly good looking PSG girls. It wasn’t long before both the feelings came tumbling down in front of my eyes. ;) Number one: Everyone there was highly intelligent in one way or other (I’ll tell you later what other ways are there). Number two: Well, if you come to the campus you will know.  

Getting adjusted to a class of huge strength and getting to know new people made the 1^st sem whiz past in a swift flow. Prem Chander – the man of bad words, Krishna Sriram – the tilted head and Anirudh Krishna became my initial gang. Special mention must go to Crystle Marian Vincent for opening me to a new world of ‘how close girls can be like guys’. The second sem I have to say, was funnier having overcome the initial shyness, everyone ‘mingled’ with everyone. I got to know more about Niranjanaa Ragupathy the perfectionist (may be ambitious or just general disregard for socializing ;)) and Swetha Shivakumar. I vividly remember ‘ChillOut’ event and more so the fights among the class ppl that followed. By the end of 1^st yr some disliked me for being a show off (which I was!) and some liked me for their own reasons, and I was just left with ‘Why did I leave my school??’ feeling.

The second year carried it with some surprises and shocks. A mixture of feelings - cold traces of betrayal to be set right by warm hands of friendship. While my friends ‘puffed’ their way to glory I was a little left out and became a ‘not so guy’ guy thanks to Crys and Niru;) for coining that. All the time my school pal Balakrishnan (also in my college though in a different department) acted as a bridge between school and college, a refuge when the latter turned bitter. In the meantime my department went to a whole new level of pissing us students off by introducing some ‘persons’ some of who need to attend 1^st std English class before coming to teach us!! I couldn’t forget one particular ‘person’ who made all our lives miserable and who made the two Prems to come up with many torture mechanisms the noteworthy one being ‘Rat trap – Shakila movie’. Physics is all these guys need!

I could honestly, without a flinch say 3^rd yr is the one I enjoyed the most (for reasons that may or may not be my college related ;)). Things were pretty much the same, college sucked/was fun the same level as it did last yr. But my attitude towards everything changed and I came to terms with PSG Tech’s way of being. Some time back I told I would later explain ‘the other ways’ where one can excel. For one thing Krishna can roll without spilling a morsel sitting in a roller coaster ride!! Kudos man! Padhu can (given the right time and place) can teach anyone (oh yeah ANYONE!!) any subject and make them pass. Swetha could ‘nibble’ her way out of all problems. Crystle could smell and laugh at an ‘A joke’ miles away before even the guys could begin to spell ‘A’. Saranya gopal moved from Orkut to facebook with relentless online time. Niranjanaa as usual would do all the assignments the day before even the teacher can think of giving them.

Everything upgraded to the next version, my bus journey became a bike journey, we became pre-final years, Every one of us had or almost had a girlfriend ;). Prem anand’s muscles were bigger than ever it and it looked like it was only a matter of time before he burst into pieces by work out and meditation. Cigarettes became joints and MC became Bacardi. The years of closeness did what it does best - bring out the differences. More than ever I wanted to go back to school.

The 6^th sem things started to spice up a little… Breakups, jealousy, stupidity but 10 times more enjoyment and it’s to no wonder my cgpa took a gradual decrease from 1^st sem to 6^th  sem! I hit it off with a couple of new friends Murali Krishna and Jeevitha Balakrishnan. Murali who still pees in his pants at the thought of his mom catching him doing something remotely wrong and who watches Ben10 (  I know!!!), but very helpful when it comes to friendship. Jeevitha a girl who falsifies her appearance to be quiet and innocent but in reality quite the opposite! Thanks for the gifts btw I do remember the IM times! I can hardly forget the placement preparation we three had together!!

The 7^th sem and the placements that followed are in my previous posts. Ahh I missed someone who came along with me from my 12^th to this sem, a good friend Shilpa Suresh(in Bala’s department). You would have studied of something called ‘Noble’ or ‘Ideal’ gases in Chemistry. She is one such gas I mean girl; all I can see is an embodiment of all that is good and virtuous! No wonder she didn’t ‘bond’ with anyone :P. Sowmya Baskaran(a misery girl whose doors are always open for problems) and Prem Anand(the gym freak with a passion for buying and selling on ebay) became closer. My gang grew in number wide but I must say it failed to grow depth wise. The differences I mentioned earlier took its toll eventually but I am glad the part of the group who sticked together did their part well J              

      I am sitting now in the middle of the last year penning this while half of the people I mentioned above are working as interns, some opted out and continuing with college, some like me are waiting to leave as students and emerge as professionals (in what? I have NO idea). All of the above mentioned friends  (yes friends) will remain etched in the college chapter of my life, of course some carved deeper than the other. But all in all I couldn’t decide now if I made the right choice 4 years back in choosing PSG Tech while sitting in counseling in front of a computer that’s very much similar to the one I am in front of now. One and a half years back I thought that was the worst mistake I ever did, now I am doubtful if it was a mistake, maybe… just maybe I need a few more years and time’s dubious ways to realize the wonder that is PSG tech college life! 

VIT MUN - Part 2

Finally the day arrived (was forcefully reminded of the “suit up” by Barney ) and so I went to the DISEC(the council I am in) hall. As soon as I entered the hall I realized how small and inconspicuous can one go even with shining boots and neat suits. The aura around me screamed of law colleges, NIT’s, NUS, and several experienced participants who seemed as sure of themselves as T Rajendar is, except they do have the talent. All through the meeting I managed to keep myself from NOT getting embarrassed a great feat according to me.

               

 But once I got used to all the proceedings I kinda started to actually enjoy it. For people who don’t know how an MUN goes - there are some rules like you got to raise your country cards if you wanna take a leak or go out for personal stuff. (worst case you may not be given permission to go!).  There was a ‘Point of Entertainment’ where apparently one can do whatever one wants and they do mean it when they said ‘whatever’. Delegates went berserk and started dancing and singing. For a guy like me where the thought of dancing is only in movies(or in my own room) I was slightly intimidated by how soon random dance couples started forming in the hall. :P

             

   Mexico would have been reasonably proud of my performance.  I didn’t embarrass her nor made situation difficult for her. Mexico by the end of the day was as it was before the start. NON-EXISTENT ;P. (in spite of some valiant attempts from my side to start some moderated caucuses). If my country didn’t make a difference then Bala’s committee by itself didn’t make any difference on him ;). My friend’s council (IMF )I learnt was superbly mundane. Shilpa had a few remarkable experiences of her own getting caught late out of girls hostel ( I dunno why they have one seeing most are roaming with one or more boys all the time!) and running along with us to catch a train( the train stops only for 3 mins at our station which we knew 2 mins after it stopped) on our return journey. Her picture perfect life was threatened its perfect-ness in these few days of affiliation with us :P.  (But still she managed to to get away with a prize!! )

                

All in all it was a wonderful experience, thanks to Bala I now could see how small a world I have been living in. Thanks to my parents who believed me as soon as I said I am really into this MUN thingy. What I thought would be a chilled out IV kind of trip turned out to be one of the most useful and wonderful experiences in my life.

VIT MUN - Part 1

Everything seems to be so chilled out now. I stop my bike to enjoy the occasional rain droplets, I no longer grumble when someone pushes his/her way in front of me while in a queue, I even find time to delete the unused files and icons from my PC ;). Things are going just fine and I wanted to gear it up a little and then my mobile vibrated. It was Bala (ma iskool pal) on the other end asking if I am interested in participating in VIT Model United Nations. 

            Now guys while his intention and thoughts were full and undivided for the MUN experience only, mine stopped responding to any sound after the word VIT. My mind drew images of random chicks at their best ‘dress code’ there and I immediately grabbed the opportunity. ;) I, Bala and Shilpa (another brainy friend of mine) set about to VIT with each of us having a will of our own. We reached there a day before MUN.

            We were greeted by a wonderful campus. Especially to us PSG-ians who are used to seeing every inch of habitable land covered by crude buildings, this campus with its plush greenery added with scantily clad girls were a real treat! Purpose served I happily went to my allocated room but found it to be a dorm with around 30 participants dumped like in a zoo. Hospitality sucked with little or no security for our stuff so we were forced to carry our stuff hanging around the neck like a porter, every time we made a try on some good looking girl. :P You could imagine our chances.

            We took a few photographs, ogled at all the girls (I don’t discriminate any) around, admired the infrastructure, chatted our way and enjoyed the food. Shilpa returned to her hostel, I and Bala returned to ours and tucked in early to be fresh for tomorrow.