The road connecting college to the corporate world is tiresome but once you reach the gates of your would be office on the first day, the sheer joy of a new beginning overcomes all the hardships you had to face to reach here. While shifting from home to the corporate centre, though the traveler bag you carry is the same which you carried to your college last winters just that the jeans and tees get replaced by formals. Also, now in the absence of friends to share the baggage you have to hire a coolie.
The grass definitely is greener here but you would long to go back to those moonlit summer nights, taking a stroll along the green college ground. The lectures which seemed so repetitive and boring become significant here. Sometimes one feels guilty of not listening to our technical guardians. A classroom full of life, fun and knowledge when converts into a cubical too small to fit in, it feels like running back to the comfortable confines of the college life with same old friends, teachers, campus and hostel life.
The guy sitting next to you is not thinking “Shaam ko main aur Pandu geedi marne jayenge”, but he is keenly assessing your weaknesses, thinking of ways and means to lead you in the rat race. One realizes upon spending ones salary now, that the stuff you so freely handed out to Nescafe, Verka, Juice Bar and Ekta, was not paper but your fathers hard earned money.
From Kapil General Store to Shopping malls,
From Nescafe to café coffee day,
From Verka to Mc Donalds,
From sleeping ‘Mirpur to sleepless Delhi,
From caring friends to competing foes,
From friends who were girls to Girl friends,
From kind teachers to cruel bosses,
From mess food to messy food,
From LIFE to a LIVING.
The transformation has been wonderful.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Escape to NITH
We all at some time or other leave one place to shift to new lands for moving on in life. While leaving college some months back the pain was unbearable. The man’s ego held back the tears, still my eyes revealed the state of heart. Friends held my hand firmly as if wanting to avert this separation. The cab driver honked anxiously telling it was time we said good bye. For long I kept looking back till I could no more see them. The roads where I had roamed with friends, the benches outside admin where many afternoons were spent waiting for lectures to begin, a lot happening over a cup of coffee at Nescafe and every thing about my college called me back. But it was not possible. The cab sped out of hills and in few hours I came too far from that heaven called NIT Hamirpur.
Back at home the appointment letter of POWERGRID was waiting for me. Jubilation and celebration followed and soon it was time I again packed my bags to attend the call of career. Faridabad NCR, our first stoppage in a year long training, was hot and humid. This further made me miss the cool and cozy college campus. I started talking to juniors thinking that would help make the transformation from campus to company easy. But this backfired and now the desire to escape to the Alma mater grew strong like a tsunami. We got our first salary by the end of august. It was by every means more than what our pockets could manage. The very next weekend I decided to run back to the green pines where uncountable memories were waiting for my return. The sight of ISBT bus stand filled me with nostalgia. It was a moonlit night. Thus, allowing me a bluish grey view outside. Somewhat like the black and white movie of yesteryear. I could not sleep. As the bus crossed Una, familiar clay hills injected into me a sense of belongingness to this land. The rising sun seemed to welcome me back home. As the bus stopped finally at ‘Mirpur bus stand, I waited for some bus/cab driver to come to me and say “kutti jani”. "REC", I replied with energy and smile.
Next couple of days amidst greenery and juniors I cupped life with both hands and replenished my soul with it. Though there was a change in the air about college still it possessed the same aroma which made us forget all our worries and gave us strength to keep moving higher in life. In the 36 hours I stayed there I slept just for 3 hours. This itself tells how much life is there at NITH.
It was time to say good bye again. I walked with heavy steps towards gate 1. Accompanied by few friends who had come to c me off... I wished to stay longer and spend some more time with juniors and the campus. When they put their hands forward for the final shake I was reluctant but then this is what life is all about; moving on, leaving behind memories and people. As I walked out of college gates I recalled words of a close friend from my batch :
"I want to go back to the time when our ELE deptt. was our fav timepass, when love was waiting at nescafe just to see them pass by, when frnds shoulder was the highest place on earth, when your worst enemies were your teachers, when the only thing that could hurt was misunderstanding amongst friends and when good byes only meant till tomorrow"
Back at home the appointment letter of POWERGRID was waiting for me. Jubilation and celebration followed and soon it was time I again packed my bags to attend the call of career. Faridabad NCR, our first stoppage in a year long training, was hot and humid. This further made me miss the cool and cozy college campus. I started talking to juniors thinking that would help make the transformation from campus to company easy. But this backfired and now the desire to escape to the Alma mater grew strong like a tsunami. We got our first salary by the end of august. It was by every means more than what our pockets could manage. The very next weekend I decided to run back to the green pines where uncountable memories were waiting for my return. The sight of ISBT bus stand filled me with nostalgia. It was a moonlit night. Thus, allowing me a bluish grey view outside. Somewhat like the black and white movie of yesteryear. I could not sleep. As the bus crossed Una, familiar clay hills injected into me a sense of belongingness to this land. The rising sun seemed to welcome me back home. As the bus stopped finally at ‘Mirpur bus stand, I waited for some bus/cab driver to come to me and say “kutti jani”. "REC", I replied with energy and smile.
Next couple of days amidst greenery and juniors I cupped life with both hands and replenished my soul with it. Though there was a change in the air about college still it possessed the same aroma which made us forget all our worries and gave us strength to keep moving higher in life. In the 36 hours I stayed there I slept just for 3 hours. This itself tells how much life is there at NITH.
It was time to say good bye again. I walked with heavy steps towards gate 1. Accompanied by few friends who had come to c me off... I wished to stay longer and spend some more time with juniors and the campus. When they put their hands forward for the final shake I was reluctant but then this is what life is all about; moving on, leaving behind memories and people. As I walked out of college gates I recalled words of a close friend from my batch :
"I want to go back to the time when our ELE deptt. was our fav timepass, when love was waiting at nescafe just to see them pass by, when frnds shoulder was the highest place on earth, when your worst enemies were your teachers, when the only thing that could hurt was misunderstanding amongst friends and when good byes only meant till tomorrow"
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Couple Mania
I am neither averse to the couples walking up and down the mall road of NITH, nor a die hard member of the singles club. Mine is a hung assembly. Oscillating between these two domains I try drawing the joys and sorrows of falling in love and being alien to this four letter idiocy.
As the clock strikes 5:00, the love birds creep out of their nests. Some smelling wood, some pine and some whatever their friend could provide him or her with. The experienced couples know which location to choose for the evening. Like the mall road is unsafe coz the teachers make it really uncomfortable. Admin is haunted by babas. Ground is safe till there is no match going on. OAT is uninhabited and safe for couples who are in true love but for the diffident it is not the right place.
The recent spurt in the couple culture indicates that being in love is no more a chance but has become a necessity. You have to appear in an interview and you realize your shoe is lost. You borrow it from your friend which is one size less than yours. Still since this is a necessity, you compromise. In the interview you are smiling ears to ears and all this while your feet are cursing you for the ordeal. Same is the case with the couples around here. An extremely tall guy with a pitiably short girl, a fat pie with a living skeleton, and like wise, but since it is a necessity no one wants to wait for a perfectly fitting soul mate but just does it.
The ones (there are few I know), truly, madly and sadly in love would accept that Love is a plural feeling. It brings happiness, belongingness, support, pain and what not. Love is not in breaking and again making up but in never breaking up. To be in love you need not walk under the green pines whole day long, but just thinking about each other is love. Love is not in seeing each other every day but in missing each other every minute. Love is not in oscillating between Verka and Nescafe, but in witnessing together a setting sun and full moon. Also love does not happen every now and then. It happens just once. And it’s worth falling in love once.
As the clock strikes 5:00, the love birds creep out of their nests. Some smelling wood, some pine and some whatever their friend could provide him or her with. The experienced couples know which location to choose for the evening. Like the mall road is unsafe coz the teachers make it really uncomfortable. Admin is haunted by babas. Ground is safe till there is no match going on. OAT is uninhabited and safe for couples who are in true love but for the diffident it is not the right place.
The recent spurt in the couple culture indicates that being in love is no more a chance but has become a necessity. You have to appear in an interview and you realize your shoe is lost. You borrow it from your friend which is one size less than yours. Still since this is a necessity, you compromise. In the interview you are smiling ears to ears and all this while your feet are cursing you for the ordeal. Same is the case with the couples around here. An extremely tall guy with a pitiably short girl, a fat pie with a living skeleton, and like wise, but since it is a necessity no one wants to wait for a perfectly fitting soul mate but just does it.
The ones (there are few I know), truly, madly and sadly in love would accept that Love is a plural feeling. It brings happiness, belongingness, support, pain and what not. Love is not in breaking and again making up but in never breaking up. To be in love you need not walk under the green pines whole day long, but just thinking about each other is love. Love is not in seeing each other every day but in missing each other every minute. Love is not in oscillating between Verka and Nescafe, but in witnessing together a setting sun and full moon. Also love does not happen every now and then. It happens just once. And it’s worth falling in love once.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
An Unfortunate Grand Child
I am an unfortunate grand child. By the time I could understand the joy of seeing my grand parents, their hugs and kisses, blessings and care, I was sent to a boarding school.
In vacations I used to travel across the hills and plains to the backyards of my hometown, where they lived. They would do my arti first and then shower this deprived soul with their love and affection. The world would seem to me a small place with just three beings, me and my grand parents. Some times I and grandmother would form alliance to tease grand pa and upon him getting angry, my grandmother would go near his ears to whisper something which would let him lose his temper.
All grandmothers have magic in their hands and mine was no exception. I write this with a taste of her jalebis still on my palate. She could not write but was good in reading minds. She understood my romantic expeditions to the neighbor’s house where a cute little girl stayed, my likes and dislikes and everything else which even my mama could not make out.
I remember coming back to my home in the town during a summer vacation. My father did not take me to the village. That evening grand father took the arti alone; for the first time I had seen him without my grand ma. As he blessed me, I enquired about her. He said she was ill and we shall go meet her next morning. At about midnight, all in my house started crying. I went to grand pa to hear him say “she wanted to see her grand child once”.
On Monday, 19th Jan, 2009, I received a call from my mama. “Babu, dadajee ko heart attack aaya hai”. I missed a heart beat. In college, inside class I could not even show my concern. At 80, this was the third time it had hit him.
Last December while I was at home he wanted to meet me but due to bad weather he could not travel. It had been more than a year that I met him. Then he was growing old but was steady. As I hugged him I could feel his heart beating against my chest. The heart sounded strong.
Today with that sound of his heartbeat resonating in my mind I lie on my bed with a feeling of guilt of not accompanying him on his last journey which began the previous night. I requested the cell phone, which gave the news to me, to be taken near his ears and whispered “I love you”. I knew my grand ma used to say this in his ears when he went angry over anything and I expect as he used to forgive grand ma he would forgive me too.
In vacations I used to travel across the hills and plains to the backyards of my hometown, where they lived. They would do my arti first and then shower this deprived soul with their love and affection. The world would seem to me a small place with just three beings, me and my grand parents. Some times I and grandmother would form alliance to tease grand pa and upon him getting angry, my grandmother would go near his ears to whisper something which would let him lose his temper.
All grandmothers have magic in their hands and mine was no exception. I write this with a taste of her jalebis still on my palate. She could not write but was good in reading minds. She understood my romantic expeditions to the neighbor’s house where a cute little girl stayed, my likes and dislikes and everything else which even my mama could not make out.
I remember coming back to my home in the town during a summer vacation. My father did not take me to the village. That evening grand father took the arti alone; for the first time I had seen him without my grand ma. As he blessed me, I enquired about her. He said she was ill and we shall go meet her next morning. At about midnight, all in my house started crying. I went to grand pa to hear him say “she wanted to see her grand child once”.
On Monday, 19th Jan, 2009, I received a call from my mama. “Babu, dadajee ko heart attack aaya hai”. I missed a heart beat. In college, inside class I could not even show my concern. At 80, this was the third time it had hit him.
Last December while I was at home he wanted to meet me but due to bad weather he could not travel. It had been more than a year that I met him. Then he was growing old but was steady. As I hugged him I could feel his heart beating against my chest. The heart sounded strong.
Today with that sound of his heartbeat resonating in my mind I lie on my bed with a feeling of guilt of not accompanying him on his last journey which began the previous night. I requested the cell phone, which gave the news to me, to be taken near his ears and whispered “I love you”. I knew my grand ma used to say this in his ears when he went angry over anything and I expect as he used to forgive grand ma he would forgive me too.
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