A Trip Down Memory Lane

It seemed only days ago that I was entering the gated archway of my college with trepidation. The very structure of the building with years and years of history reverberating in its walls was intimidating if not downright scary. I still remember the first day in this college with a crystal clear clarity. Finding our way to the correct classrooms itself was a feat. I remember a group of us trying to figure out Lecture Room 206 (which actually turned out to be 20G but the print made it look like 206) and everyone being baffled as they’d never heard of such a classroom. I still remember how miserable the first half of the day was because of the company and how someone (who is now a good friend) I met later in the day seemed to me like a god-sent angel. She struck up conversation with me as we were waiting in queue to get into the class. I guess that’s how the journey started. all it took was her ‘hi’. I promptly went and sat with her, glad to ditch the previous company I had. Since then it’s been one crazy whirlpool of ups and downs.

Having some resemblance to Hogwarts, our college had it’s fair share of secret classrooms and secret niches and secret trap doors. That one whiff of adventure was all I needed. My friend and I were determined to find out all these secret places. This determination started 5 years back in the first year of junior college and lasted all the way till the last year of college. From finding deserted corridors behind the chapel to LR 29 (the location of which not many people know) to the locked third floor to passages off the zoology lab and to climbing into small connecting pathways (which are locked from the other end) through windows and to finding dead pigeons in there, we’ve pretty much covered it all.

We also had our fair share of crushes in college. whether it be you running all over college to glimpse said crush or pretending to talk on a shadowy stairway with someone so you could keep your eye on him, to following the guy in college who’d wear the best cologne ever, to blushing when your favourite, young male professor spoke to you outside class. Between my friends and I, there was always some or the other cute guy to keep our spirits up, even with the serious lack of guys the humanities stream in college had. These are probably some of my favourite memories of college. Not only is it the memory that I won’t ever forget but it’s the feelings and the swooning they still evoke in me that cannot be forgotten even if I tried.

No college experience would have been complete without the college fest though. From the FYJC when I came as an audience to watch Malhar, that was the one and only year I got to watch Illuminati (the UV light dance) from the best seats, up in the gallery in our hall. The entire event was breathtakingly stunning to the two years which followed where I was part of the work force to my last Malhar where I was part of the organizing team. There are too many memories to pen them all down but the best thing that Malhar gave me was the people I met through the fest. I feel lucky to have been able to meet these people, some of them extremely dear to me.

Most of my last year in college was more or less a big ball of blur. As the level of difficulty of the classes increased tenfold, assignments and exams every week, and those bloody hateful journals, if someone were to ask me to close my eyes and recollect my last  year the first thing that comes to my mind is a copy of the cover page of our pretty much weekly assignments. Having Psychology as a major, we were a small class of 24, and more or less our entire life (in and outside college) revolved within the four walls of our lab. But then the memories of our HoD letting us bring coffee and food up to class and allowing us to drink and eat in class, and the poor one person would go down to probably buy ten people coffee, having to use cardboard boxes given by the coffee counter to carry up all the cups kick in. then there were her marathon lectures with small breaks in between, all her jokes in class, the rivalry between her and our principal and how open she was about it did give us all a good laugh. Just like us, it was our HoD’s last year of teaching as well. That in itself is a loaded memory now. Then there was the yearly seminar we had in Khandala. Just thinking about it brings a broad smile to my face. While during the day it was all serious listening to the various papers the students presented, the nights were spent bonding and partying it up with our classmates with fairy lights, loud music, alcohol and dancing on the beds. Best nights ever. The small farewell party we put up for out HoD with more fairy lights, food, hot chocolate, a song our class prepared and sharing all this around a bonfire. Needless to say of the seminars I attended all three years, this one was the best.

Another reason the last year was so memorable was because although this was the year we had the least time for maintaining social lives, it was the year we went out to maximum places to eat in with our friends. From Sterling to Kala Ghoda cafe and Ahar to Sunlight and Kitkat. It’s been 5 lovely years with a treasure full of memories. From getting high on the iced tea in the canteen to laughing till tears are streaming down your face, to squabbling over bhaji pao, to birthdays, to class photos to cute guys. It’s been one hell of a journey and finally the day has come, with caps thrown in the air and numerous pictures captured, we’re graduates. This journey is officially over. Xavier’s has molded me into becoming the person I am today and I’m eternally grateful for giving me the best 5 years of my life.

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My Person

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Stunningly beautiful she is.
With the loveliest long mane
with lovely brunette shades,
In stark contrast to lovingly being called Blondie.
Innocent and naive she looks,
but looks can be deceiving, I should know.
Loud and raucous she is, being naturally loud and what not.
People call her pretty, but most haven’t seen her at her prettiest best-
the best pig face made by any man!
But she’s quiet when you need her to be
and A heart of gold she has.
She exudes warmth as a person
and has not one mean bone in her body.
Crazy she is; but a reason to smile she gives.
She’s my 3:00 am loon I’d call.
She brings out the crazy in me but then again
That moral conscience of hers makes me be nice against my will.
She is a cat person; I am a dog person.
Yet without her I could not do,
Cause she is My Person.

Bottom of the Ocean

She was sinking, sinking deep in the pools of her despair,
She was alone, so alone.
No one to talk to, to laugh with, no one to lean on while tears silently dripped down her cheeks.
Everyone had ‘their person’. Who did she have?

She was taught that sharing is good. But she didn’t want to share anymore. She was so tired, tired of it all. All she wanted was that one person, that one friend, who would, for once in her life, put her first. Let her occupy the top ledge.

She didn’t want the illusion anymore, ’cause everytime reality struck she was toppled off from the top ledge and she went hurtling down and crashed into the hard ocean bed. She was broken. It cost her too much to  bring herself up from this. With iron manacles shackling her down to the ocean floor, she was drowning, drowning in her own pool of misery. Weighing a ton, it was a struggle to the surface every single time.

And yet she learned her lesson not. Because she let herself hope. Let herself be swept away in the fantasy. Because in the fantasy the lead role thrust upon her, it made her joyous. Joyous but forgetful as it would seem she’d forgotten her struggles all together until she came tumbling down again.

How does she put a stop to this, she knows not. It’s too late to look for that person, yet never to late to learn from her past endeavours, that she’ll never come first. All she needs to do is stop living in the illusion, to open her eyes and accept reality.

That’s all anyone can do in life, really.

Moondust

As we start on this journey together,
We knew not each other.
We were ignorant in bliss
Life was rainbows and butterflies, as it so often is.
Like moondust settling on my eyes; my vision blurred and hazy.
The moondust I liked so much; new and sparkly as it were,
I knew not I was losing vision,
Knew not the web you had me in.
Then came a day,
When the moondust cleared and my vision sparkly clear,
Time I had to thank, for the lesson dear.
As the moondust fades away
The illusion sways.
But, it was the choices we made,
Today dearly paid
in the ghosts of our past,
Roaming the halls and strangers at last.

The Journey that was…

College fests are supposed to be something fun, a break from all the hard work and studying and academics. It’s something to just chill at with your friends with no worries in the world whatsoever. Except maybe getting the best seats for an event.

Apparently not, if you are one of the Organizers of the fest. No. Then it’s all hard work and frazzled nerves, endless ideas, sleepless nights and college in the morning again. This may still have not been a bittersweet experience had it not been for some of the…events, shall we say. I would’ve been happy to look back at all of this, the countless hours of work, the disagreements with my team, the tears, the achievements, the laughter the happy, crazy, insane moments. But it was all marred by incidences with people who were not even directly related to all this. People not a part of the core team. And that’s the sad part. If your team wasn’t able to work as one unit you still have a reason for bittersweet memories. What do you do when it’s made bittersweet by outsiders?

Things blown up out of proportion. Maybe not for you but for me. More so by the fact that everyone else knew the ‘issues’ at hand but us. In one sense of the term, a bitching session everyone partook in but none were able to walk up to us and tell us “Look, this is what you’re doing and I Don’t like it one bit. It would be nice if you could make an attempt to stop doing it.” I think after so many months and years of knowing each other we deserved that much common courtesy. It came only after everything was over. After the fest was over. And it didn’t come from you. We had to hear it from two other people. If you’re brave enough to go talk about it to everyone else, you should’ve been able to confront us about any behaviour of ours that you didn’t like. I guess that’s my opinion cause I’m not really one to talk about serious issues I’m having with a friend to another mutual friend. Maybe I’d talk about it to a third-party who didn’t know you at all. Even after it was all over you couldn’t tell us. No I had to hear it from someone and ask you about it. Yes, it affected you and you started crying and I’m truly sorry about it, but that was another reason I couldn’t say to you what I went through. How your behaviour made me feel. What you didn’t realize is that it’s a two-way process.

Yes, I agree that I was very involved with the fest. It wasn’t even a part of our life it was our life at that point. You don’t realize what we are going through. You guys beg to go home by 6 in the evening, we stay in college till 10.30-10.40  and it takes us another hour and a half to reach home. However the next day we’re still making an effort to get up at the same time as you and reach college. So no you really don’t know what we’re going through. If you tell me you’re doing the fest only for the external rewards associated with it do you honestly think I’ll volunteer to talk about something I’m doing because I’m passionate about it, because I love it, and I couldn’t give a damn  about the rewards to talk about it with you? Only to experience the negative aura you’ve built around it? You tell me. You say I only spoke to her, but do you realize that you yourself mentioned that the two others only talk to each other because they’ve always been close. Is that my fault too? You may not have meant it but that’s how you said it. I get that you were left all alone and I’m truly sorry for that but you never heard my side of the story, I was never able to tell you because I always put your emotions before mine. Do you think I wanted to talk to you anymore after you refused to accompany me claiming you had to sleep only for me to find you chatting away the time with someone else? No. I’m being brutally honest. No, I was mad, mad beyond reason and I hadn’t wanted to talk with you. I was blindsided by my rage.  This may not have been that bad but we were working for 14 hours a day excluding travelling. We were tired, sleep deprived and that doesn’t make for a happy person. You claim you once asked me ‘how the shoot went?’ I remember I said it was good. And it upset you that I didn’t give any details. But you knew that I’ve never been a morning person and I’m not particularly trippy and chatty in the morning. Combined with perpetual tiredness and sleep deprivation I agree I probably would’ve hated myself. But you never asked for any of the details. You had only asked how it was.

You claim we never spoke about the fest with you but we did with someone else. That was a lie and I don’t know what gave you the idea but internal matters were never discussed beyond the members of the core team. You built up your own interpretations and you got more upset. I agree you may have had a right to be upset but I also had a right to know you were upset and I also had a right to tell you my half of the story. Nothing ever is a one way process. We’ve gone back to being okay, probably better than okay. But I couldn’t have ever let this go without getting it out. I still don’t believe that everything I felt is out there but that’s about as much the poor keys could take the abuse from my fingers. They’ve just flown over the keys. I could’ve been visually challenged and written this. I guess that’s how much I needed an outlet.

This will probably open old wounds. But wounds cannot be forgotten unless healed. I never was healed from this wound. It cut deep especially given the fact that I couldn’t say what I had to. It’s not my intention to bring up these old flames to lick the wounds again. It’s just my way of burying the hatchet from my side. For my peace of mind.

The Ugly Truth.

Tis a thing so fragile
Laying its base in trust and honesty.
Hand in hand they go together,
Once broken, tis lost forever.

You knew not how deep I hurt,
Your manner remained distant and curt.
You blew out the dying embers
of hope,
I know not how I coped.

You found them others,
You found your place,
A distant memory was all I was
as they took my place.

You broke this fragile bond,
You tore my heart in two,
Much distress you caused,
Yet, to look back you never paused.

I was reduced to just that somebody,
A somebody when you had nobody.
A somebody to help in your time of need.
I was that somebody who would cater to one and all.

Mistaken you are love,
For I am not to be trifled with,
You’ve ignited the fire within,
The flames charring to ashes the friendship we once had.

Rendezvous under the star lit sky.

It was a night to remember. It was a night to bring us closer. It was a night to bond. It was a perfectly well spent night together. The setting sun cast  a beautiful orange glow, the wind whispering in our ears but I doubt you noticed. You were so determined. Determined to make me leave my inhibitions back home. Determined to pull me out of my shyness. And my, did you succeed! For all the grumbling and protests on my part I did finally bow down to your wishes. But you brought out the best in me and I feel thankful that you are the determined and stubborn person I know you to be.

You captured some of the most beautiful moments and memories. You brought us all closer. Yes, the night was beautiful. Rare as it is the sight, it was a precious gift to view the twinkling stars in a city so busy and full of lights. The breeze a little chilly but we shared the warm and soft comforter listening to the most amazing pieces of music. From the violin, the cello and the piano right down to our own epic and beautiful (Read as horrendous) rendition of the Zombie. But that’s another memory made to be stored away for life.

It is said that music portrays our emotions, raw. Music can touch our hearts, touch our souls. It was music that night that touched our hearts. Right from the fiery violin pieces to the soft melodies. There was not much in way of conversation and yet I feel we said so much.

It was complete in every way. The food was scrumptious. The best meal I’ve had in a long time. (That may also be due to the fact that we were all ravenous and starving though.) We had our fair share of teasing, of jokes and the ever dear blonde moments. But what is a night without doing something forbidden? You made a deal and sealed it with gulp of old monk. The night would not have been complete without our bit of sneaking around.

They say that it always makes man appreciate the true value of something you had once but lost eventually. Stolen moments with your heart’s desire are ever so precious. Which is what made this night beyond beautiful. To have you curled up next to me. To see the same happiness in your eyes which I heart-fully feel. To see you demand that I shower you with hugs and pets. To see your eyes melt when you want something, to see you trick us with those eyes to surrender and give it to you. To be rewarded with a loving lick from you. You, my love, made this enchanting night every bit as special as did everything else.