The End. Dramatic or Otherwise

I have been at IIT for two years now. And two years is what it takes the normal male adult (women not mentioned for the want of a sizeable (and noticeable) number) to complete a post-graduate course here. Of course, there are some in my casual acquaintance who've tried myriad tricks in the book and have successfully extended their stay by the odd semester or two. I am a normal male adult. Well atleast when it comes to this.

So, as the end approaches, the freakish drama queen streak that I have in me, starts looking for those elusive 'closure' moments, call them 'The Lasts' for the purpose of this post. Last meals, last hang-outs, last classes, maybe even final visits to restrooms (of which there are more male than female). So as this last week at IIT dawned, queen a la drama was on high alert to spot these moments. The week started with a submission deadline for my Master's thesis. To this end, I didn't sleep for three days, and on one of them was up from eleven the previous night to six thirty the next morning and typing without break, so I was the zombie version of Quasi Mo do by the end of it. It was submitted today. On time, somehow.

I have also, for the last year, 'savoured' mess lunch at a hostel called Satpura. I am a day scholar at IIT and I'm not even attached to Satpura. But ties of salt are stronger than ties of bureaucracy, or even legality. None of the kind gentelmen at the Satpura mess never questioned which hostel I belonged to. As for my bit, I always took my free lunches to be noble ways to reduce food wastage. So I was also interested in noting what my last lunch at Satpura would be, probably for hallowed parallels with Jesus. The Palak Paneer on Wednesdays had been a favourite. Lately, however because of classes eating into lunch, we had been forced to eat at canteens in and around campus. It then dawned on me today that last Wednesday was my last meal at Satpura.

After that realization I focussed my attention on the final class. The Haryana Jal Board had different designs. I woke up to dry taps and was forced to bunk my first class today. "Nevermind", one thought, "there's always the class in the evening, and one tomorrow evening." The day wound down and I found myself sitting in class with no one around. Turns out, at the last class (which I missed owing to my thesis), the course got finished and all further classes were cancelled. Last class then, was the one on Monday which I unconspicously dragged myself through.

Nonetheless, I have thoroughly enjoyed my stint at IIT, and I'm as surprised by that fact as anyone else is. There have been more days when I've hated it than those when I've loved it (mostly related to the EDLC ( English Debating and Literary Club for the uninitiated)in some vague way). But when I've enjoyed it, it has been enough to wipe off all the sour curd. Succinctly put in some rather corny, back of the envelope Hindi poetry.

IIT में fight मचाया,

Prof ने खूब भगाया ,

Department ने बहुत रुलाया,

EDLC ने लोगों से मिलवाया,

Satpura का नमक खाया,

बहुत मज़ा आया

The last visit to the lavatory is as yet unmarked. Queen Drama III is not happy with such an anti-climactic ending. Suggestions are invited.

The Three Birthday Cycle - A 55 word story

"I just finished another three birthday cycle."

"What's a three birthday cycle?"

"It's when you meet someone and wish them a happy birthday in the first year, you plan an elaborate surprise in the second, and you've stopped talking to them by the time the third birthday arrives!"

"Hmm...Introduction, Intimacy, Cold Turkey."

"Pretty much."

Kranky and Jaundice

Kranky and Jaundice were on the phone one day:

Kranky : My life’s a mess. My career’s nowhere. No girl ever goes out with me, even if she does, never twice. Life’s a bitch. A bad one with sharp teeth at that!

Jaundice : Dude I think I’ve turned Jain. I can’t eat anything but mildly salted boiled potatoes! Come to think of it maybe that’s why they are that way. They had major jaundice outbreak when the religion was founded and made it all a part of religion to cover it up.

The views expressed above are not the blog author's, but a near and dear one's. May his liver rest in peace.

Delirium

He lay there in his room. Lights out. The only civilization around was the silent creaking of the ceiling fan. He remembered the last time he'd had this debilitating fever. He wondered whether he was himself; whether his thoughts were his own. They swung without control. His thoughts were like twigs on a raging river. Everytime his music player played Iris, he felt as if all the love in the world was in his life, and when it switched to Nothingman, he felt it all drain away. Now his thoughts transcended the music. He remembered every time he had dreamed big, and his wings had been clipped without warning. But atleast he had dreamed.

And his thoughts swung between the good and the bad, the alpha and the omega, between the conscious and the unconscious; as Comfortably Numb faded in the background, death came and he passed calmly into oblivion...only to be reborn again tomorrow.