Its Never Too Late

Its been about three weeks since i returned to Manipal. Three weeks of complete delectation, three weeks of shunning my course material, three weeks of fantasizing; in short three weeks utterly wasted. I doubt whether i have gone through any three weeks of my life after age ten without touching a single studybook; well, i have now. Its hard to find time for academics between Counter Strike, jamming, Gobor's "leettle" magazine, sleep and...other stuff.

Which reminds me of what Dutta told me sometime back; One should always know what one is doing with his time. Simply speaking, i don't. Counter Strike, jamming, "leetle" magazine, sleep and the other stuff i mentioned do not make up the twenty-four hours of my day, contradictory though it might sound.


Tired of lying in the sunshine, staying home to watch the rain
You are young and life is long, and there is time to kill today
And then one day you find, ten years have got behind you,
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun.


I have always been this way. I have always whiled away my time or procrastinated, even though the realisation has been with me for quite a while. A flaw in my character, perhaps. This is probably the reason i get the feeling that i have never really lived up to my own expectations, never achieved what i could have.

Hope this doesn't continue for too long a time. I'll make sure it doesn't.

The Future Looks Bright

It was rather cold today. Cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey. Indeed, yesterday and today make up the two coldest days i can remember(in Delhi, that is). No amount of warm clothing or blankets could manage to keep the cold from reaching my skin. The small opening in my window that cannot be closed didn't help either. The Delhi(or should i say Gurgaon) smog persisted for these two entire days, an occurence that i have never before observed.

I was in the kitchen today, helping my mother make Gulab Jamuns, partly because i had nothing else to do and partly because the kitchen is the warmest place in the house, and since i had no intention of sitting motionless in front of a heater, i sought refuge there. It is a most delicate procedure, making Gulab Jamuns...making small balls, frying them with the utmost care, dropping them in a sugar syrup and all the time making sure that the balls retain their shape and texture. I was responsible for the frying part. For some strange reason, it struck me that frying G-jams is a lot like raising children...the jams must be exposed to the oil for a very correct and precise period of time. Fry them a little longer and they end up charred black; a little less makes them reddish, raw and undernourished. We must make sure that the correct amount of oil reaches the jams in a period of time, and turn them over when they reach a distinct colour; else they do not make good eating.

For some inexplicable reason, this reminded me of the big fight we had at MIT just before the exams. It was three days before the exams when some twelfth block guy made a pass at some fifth block dude on Orkut. This, it seems, was enough reason for the fifth block guys to gather a hundred people and beat the devil out of the twelfth block dude. Thats fair, a hundred to one. This was not the first time something of this sort had happened; a similar situation arose three months before this encounter, culminating in the same way...a hundred fifth and sixth block people beating the shit out of some poor guy.

Three days before the exams and organising a gang war, now thats something. Either these guys don't care about their result or they already know everything, and something tells me the latter might not be the correct option. Why, i ask myself. An outlet for there supressed anger, perhaps? Maybe, though where the supressed anger originates, i have no clue. Any reason will do...all they need is a chance to crack their knuckles and join in the fun.

Where did these people go wrong? Perhaps they were exposed to the oil a little too less, or turned over at the wrong time. Who knows? It makes me sad, to tell the truth. Here are a hundred well educated people, who are supposed to belong to "good" families and will make up the cream of tomorrow's engineers. Behaving in a way unexpected, bizzare and worrying, to say the least. The future looks bright.

Going Home...

I sit here in front of my laptop, a suitcase, a couple of bags and a guitar scattered around me. Exams got over yesterday and my train leaves in about seven hours time. By this time day after tomorrow, i'll have reached home.

The hostel is completely empty and bears a deserted look, since almost everyone went home yesterday. Me and a couple and friends are the only people still left. The contrast is tremendous; just yesterday loud music was blaring from numerous speakers, people were shouting their heads off and everyone in general was contributing to the mayhem.

Its hard to belive that i've been here five months already. It seems as if i came here just yesterday, with my brother and my mom dropping me off at the front gates, and i anticipating the great adventure that college life is supposed to be.

An adventure it surely was... i had a great time. Five months just passed by in the twinkling of an eye, and i'm leaving the place with mixed feelings. Five months is not a long time, yet i've made a few extremely good friends here. I'll surely miss them, but then, home is waiting to take over...

Looking forward to going home and the next semester as well...

My First...

So...My first blog.
The first and most obvious question that springs to mind is the reason for the existence of this blog. I confess, there is none. I truthfully have no idea why i started this in the first place. Maybe it was just the passing fad that caught my fancy, or the fact that loads of my good friends had blogs of their own, or that i wanted some sort of a forum to express myself, vent my obstructed feelings, share my experiences in a more concrete fashion or something else that i just can't think of right now. Whatever be the reason, here i am...hopefully in the coming months(or years, maybe) you might find something more interesting here than the piece of crap concealed in this post.
Auf Wiedersehen, until then.