San(')s Sanity

Ok so it’s not going to be a song. It’s supposed to be more like a sad post. I’ve thought about ending this blog for some time now. With a killer of a post. A post, that centuries later, aficionados and patrons of literature and art will still hail as the greatest achievement of man. After the Mona Lisa. But then, naah. Why kill something when, for all practical reasons, it will probably die a natural death by itself. I’ve always thought I should have had a different blog site address because this one not only reminds me of college but also of a name I shall no longer go by. And that is quite disheartening. Which is why I wanted to commit blogicide. But then I thought to myself, with the kind of schedule I have lined up, I probably won’t have time. Which, in a way, is good. I think I’ve done enough squandering of precious Time through myriad practices of procrastination, devoted prayers to Morpheus and Hypnos and other such (and more) blasphemous activities. Which is al

I slowly opened my eyes and looked around at the three colleagues of mine. I was smiling awkwardly as I tried studying the face of the person in front of me. He seemed quiet and serene. Tranquil. The person to my right seemed to have his eyes wide open as he gave a spaced over vibe. The last individual had already succumbed to the exercise. I closed my eyes and lost myself to amusing reveries. One of the first images that come to my mind, is the mess top of my hostel. It has been different things at different points of time during my short sojourn at the institute. Seen me as a guileless young second year, as a somewhat matured albeit happy-go-lucky third year and finally as the unequivocal profound wise man as the fourth year. Yet through it all, it has been my oasis in the confusion and problems of everyday existence. Yogasana. We had picked up this hobby hardly a few months back. To counter the stress and tension we faced at office diurnally. Personally I had never realize

The ball was finally with me. I steadied myself as I looked up to see the goalpost. Half the field away. And with three defenders dieing to charge at me. I put the ball forward and thought to myself, “This is your chance. Your opportunity to prove yourself. To the world around you. To everyone. To her.” I dribbled past the first, then a swift movement past the second, faked a shot and beat the third. It was me and the goalie. One on one. What seemed like eternity then, happened in a split-second. I saw the anxious goalie unsure of whether or not to make a run out of his spot on the white line. I made up my mind, took aim and shot… Finally, his dreams were coming true. Here was a friend, who in spite of being the most talented person I have ever met, had surrendered his dreams and settled on more pragmatic ambitions. Goals that needed their dedication and diligence no doubt, but were mere asteroids in the galactic possibilities that entailed as a result of his enviable skills. Goal

First day. Decided to watch the likes of Fart Box, KD and Nitya play football in the quadrangle. Sat down. A quarter hour later, the seniors join me for what was then going to be my first introduction session. Fortunately or otherwise, an addled Approx, also enters the discussion of his own free will. Of course, back then he didn’t know that he would be given such a name. I was given a short lived nick name which is better left to the imagination. Night and room number 268 has all its three residents settling in for their first night in the institute when an abrupt knock disturbs them. Opening the door, reveals none other than Torso, also not yet privy to his nick. Torso pleads to spend the night in our room since none of his roommates had turned up. We concede to his request. Torso, as infamous as he is now, spends his first ever night, sleeping on two tables. Some nights later, in the company of many esteemed seniors, am in the 5 th wing. Many things transpire. Helmet is born