Oasis 2k8

Whenever I look back at a certain eventful week in late October this year, an odd sort of feeling springs up, something that I can't quite put my finger on...like this feeling, my memories of Oasis, the college cult-fest, are also very difficult to sort out completely; sharp and vivid sometimes, hazy and obscure otherwise. Is that how things are meant to be? "Time and space all melded into 4 days of Unio Mystica". Who knows.

Newayz here goes my account of Oasis 2k8.....

To begin with, I guess Mafia Night really kicked the thing off :). I learned how to properly play Mafia (something like Killer-Dead that we used to play at RKM) two days before we spent a whole night playing it (October the 19th: fest began on the 20th), that too at Patel chowk. Going the whole night without sleep may not be uncommon for many BITSians but I'm an early riser, so this was very out of ordinary, but good fun all the same. 

Here's what strikes when I think of the fest itself ( in order of striking) -

#1)The first thing that I remember was KK. What a singer, and what a performer. The audi(ence) was simply spellbound by his voice and his energy, and did repay it to him in kind. When KK told us from the stage "You guys are louder than me!" I didn't believe him, what with those two gigantic curved speakers, but hollered back with the crowd anyway. Now that I see the vid and realize that we actually were drowning him out in the choruses. 

#2)Euphoria: They sucked. Totally. And that was a sore blow for me because Dhoom and Maaeri are among my favourite indipop songs. They arrived late, they spoilt their most beautiful songs (e.g. a line from Gully: "Tujhe palkon pe rakkhunga jee." became "Tujhe kamre me bithaakar lock kar ke rakh doonga, jeeeee-ee." What the hell :O) . To my increased dismay, they also left out many of their good original songs (Doha, Aasaan, Millenium and many others which though not very popular, are good, soulful songs) in a bid to play to the public. But even then, "gen dancing"(more leaping and pushing in the crowd than dancing :)) to any music absolutely "rokks" :)

P.S.: And I was so tired after that show that I slept off almost immediately after in the OEP booth, having asked Udit to wake me up after half an hour for the Lounge Piranha show. Udit said no problem, and fell into deep sleep a few minutes later. And we both missed what was supposedly the best gig this Oasis...

#3)Bani J: The thin-as-a-stick, dumb-as-hell MTV veejay was a horror, both visually and otherwise; she was walking all over BITS with her ghastly white face and ooodles of thadi, trying to get "cool sound bytes", as she put it, from the crowd mulling about. I had the misfortune to speak to her twice. I shall certainly remember each meeting :(

#4) Dance workshop:I can waltz pretty well now but not jive at all. DW was not quite the tour-de-force that I expected, but was still a fun learning experience. I think the guys from Delhi did a really awesome job of teaching something, step-by-step, within the span of two hours. Neel looked very beautiful doing the waltz, and we college students were made to do ring-a-ring-a-roses :D. Yup, I think that's about it.

#5) Food: Was even better, and costlier, than last year. CCD brought along some awesome MNB-type things called "Devil's Own"s. They cost Rs. 100 a glass, and single-handedly depleted around half of the money I'd saved to splurge on food and stuff. There was also the eventful time when GJ ordered a CCD veg-sandwich, which , somehow, started smelling 'non-veg' to him. After trying it a couple of times he decided it was rather 'fishy' and since you don't waste CCD stuff & since I was the only one with him then, I wolfed it down. 

What else? Crowds shouting "KK! KK!" during the wait for Euphoria, drowsily watching Choreo and Razmatazz, doing an impromptu onstage stint for EDC with some clothes and a Remington during the Stage Play competition, "Wake Up the Sleeping People and Ask them Dumb Questions" during Rocktaves ... and generally, a few other very happy memories...

Cheers,

SS

Here's to second year

Boy, isn't life weird.
For the last one week, I have been a second-yearite. And it's been something of a ride. Given the fact that today was the first day in 10 that I could actually tuck into dinner at my own mess, you could say it's been a tad exhausting, what with hostel "ragging" (ok, make that "interacting" - cuz real proper ragging is something I would probably never learn in my lifetime), single-room blues, irate backies, even a Pahari trip + a punctured cycle, not-to-mention frequent bouts of "old-wing-nostalgia", leading to frequent dutches at C'Not with the whole of R.U.H. Then again, EPC and Moruchhaya are back with a bang; the harried SMSes, unremunerated expenses, interactions again(these are proper ones, mind it), and finally helping poor, sensitive people (read: juniors) who tend to explode or implode at the very mention of words like "erection" or "anorexia"(that's for the ladies) - well, it's been something.

And finally the harsh realities of 2nd year, limited though they may be, are kicking in. Firstly, the uncannily slavish devotion to classes that I nurtured in my second sem seems to have completely evaporated. I no longer rush out of my room at x-15 min to reach a class starting at x time 5 minutes beforehand. Rather, the languidity of being in a single room gets to me; I wallow in my bed or click away at my lappy till its almost time. And even then I don't hurry; this has led to me sitting in the back-benches or missing the crucial first demos in almost all classes so far. I have also started getting into heavy LAN gaming (Halo and CS and AOE).

Yup, I know. I'm doomed. And unless I pull myself together right now, my 9.something GPA last sem will be quite worthless....

So today, I reluctantly invoke the most potent, dormant power in BITS...

The ghot-board.

Adias,
Janus

Here's a Really Long Post......

Well, here's my first story. And I have no agents yet, so I'll just publish it here :)
Btw, its long n not immersing or anything. Read only if really jobless, like I was when I wrote it :) 

The Gift


It had been Christmas Eve when he had seen her for the first time.

And it is once again Christmas Eve in Landour.

Bitter winds, bitter memories of a little town that used to shiver and tremble, sing and dance at these times, assail him. He trudges on, adjusting his cap against a fresh onslaught of the relentless blizzard, drawing his coat about himself as he walks...



"So why are we here?"

Her voice was slightly muffled. She was, after all, female; she obviously wouldn't stop speaking though she was wolfing down her third naan. Her questioning, doe-like eyes scanned his face now, mutely repeating the same thing she had asked him just now. And this was standard fare, very much a part of Ananya as he knew her. Every time they met, he knew she would begin with this one line.

They were seated at the Regency, in Kolkata. The monsoon was a mere week from settling in fully, and the first showers had already come into the city, invigorating the people with fresh hope. This was the time when the fishermen in the villages would bid their wives farewell, as they ventured with their boats into the wide estuaries of the Sunderbans, trying to catch the prize hilsas that swam up the river. This was the time when the stalls at Victoria would do the year’s best business before the Pujas, as couples strolled the Memorial grounds all day and night. And this was the season when children would think of paper boats to float in the city’s drains. Later on, this very rain would be carrying both boat and child away…

But for now, the rains were just beginning. And as the cool, moist wind that heralded this beginning blew over her face, she smiled, closed her eyes, and stretched back to enjoy the breeze. He looked at her for a moment, then answered: ”There’s something I’ve brought for you.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d given things to her. And she knew that. She opened one eye, and gave him a sharp, quizzical look. “What?”, she said.

And then he said to her: “Will you marry me?”

Her fork fell on the plate with a clatter as she saw the ring. Her hands went over her mouth as she gazed, open-eyed, at him.

And in those eyes, all he had seen till then was fun, frolic and carelessness....

...today he thought he saw acceptance glisten for the first time…



The hospital stands in front of him...white, tall, simple and forbidding. From the outside, he can see the orderlies walk hither and thither, nurses carrying trays and clipboards went about, talking in fluent Pahari. He rushes through the glass doors, nearly bumps into a nurse. Instead of apologizing he says to her “My wife is admitted here….I am Mr. Avinash Pant from….”

The nurse’s annoyed look is soon replaced by concern, and she points towards a particular corridor. He thanks her hurriedly and rushes towards it. He runs through the corridor, breathing heavily.

And then he sees her, through the window of Ward 3. Broken, lifeless. But then, she smiles at him. Life, for an instant, flows back into her face. She had recognized him. Amidst all the terrible pain, she would have smiled like that for only one person in the whole world…

Involuntarily, his hand reaches up to brush off snow from the little bouquet of flowers he has brought along…



He lay awake at night, looking out at the twinkling lights of Landour, of his long-lost home…

Why did this place have to be their honeymoon, she had asked him so many times. It was obvious, wasn’t it? He had so many sweet memories of this town. He still remembered the chilly winters, the long treks over lush green hills to reach his secondary school, the humdrum as the lines of prayer flags on the roadsides all flapped as one in the mountain breeze….he had always, deep within, cherished the thought of returning here once. And it had grown, but, thankfully, hadn’t changed one bit…..

He looked at her face as she slept, beside him. What a ride it had been. The proposal. The disagreement of her ‘Born Tough’ father who had hollered at her “Whom do you love, me or him?” and the extremely filmy reply “It is possible to love two people, but only one can you love the most.” He smiled. The settling down in Mumbai. The struggle for a respectable livelihood. Returning in the evenings, expecting a warm dinner, and a warmer smile…

She turned around in bed and blindly felt for him. He laughed out aloud. She slowly opened one eye, and then sat up suddenly at once.

“Kya hua? Its…”She glanced up. ”..two in the night…why aren’t you sleeping?” She looked even more beautiful with her eyebrows arched in a rare expression of concern.

“Just woke up.” ,he lied. “Listen, I’m going for a stroll, ok?”

“But its snowing!”

He planted a quick kiss on her forehead.

“Stay safe. I’ll call you soon.”

And he lit up a cigarette and walked away into the blizzard towards the florist’s.


He stands beside her, watching the near-lifeless eyes slowly rise up to his face. And he knows his tears will not be enough to stop him speaking to her. To communicate, one last time.

He clasps her hand. Peace is slowly creeping into those eyes he knows so well. He knows she’ll be asleep within moments…

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, Ananya..” , he says. His voice cracks. “I’m so sorry that I wasn’t…ever…there…”He breaks down into harsh, cracked sobs as he crumples beside her.

He waits by her side, wiping his tears, allowing the silence to stretch, till sleep overcomes her. Then he replaces the old flowers beside her, and takes out the vial from his pocket. He leans over, empties its contents into her slightly agape mouth.

And he realizes that its over. Nobody would ever know.

He steps out into the blinding whiteness again, snowflakes stinging his flesh like knives…..

And it all returns........

His first love. His first marriage. Moving from Kolkata to Landour. Her smiling face that saw him through the hassles of it all.

Then his second love. Not love, obsession, madness. Stronger and fiercer than the first…and then his ultimate choice…

….and all the lies that had followed…

As Divya had said, it was possible to love two people. But only one could you love the most……

Of Endings(R.U.H) and Beginnings, Too.....

"Ei poth jodi na shesh hoy, tobe kemon hoto, tumi bolo to...
Jodi prithibi-ta shopner desh hoy, tobe kemon hoto tumi bolo to... "
(Should this path never end, how would it be?
Should this world itself be paradise, how would it be?)
- immortal lyrics of a song from Saptapadi.

Home. Finally home. From friggin dust storms, from Peter and Michael and other LGMF-ing insects, from MNBs and Rs. 50-chicken rolls in C'Not (bastards!), from weird hippies in Rishikesh, from the stark isolation of the Rajasthan desert, from everything that is unknown or inunderstood or fun...it's all done and over with. For this first year, at least.

But hey, the path hasn't ended. Not yet......I guess we're still somewhere around Chirawa....:)

Cliche of the hour: The only permanent thing about life is change. Change which keeps on happening, which comes unbidden and undetected, and yet in some way alters your life forever...

Why am I rambling bullshit? Just like that, I guess.

Much more to write about my first year, but I guess I'll leave gyaan for later. This post is exclusive to R.U.H.

Stupid name: R.U.H - Ram Upper H-wing. But there it is. And I guess it shows that we weren't the most intellectual 1st-year wing on campus, but who cares?
Here we are in all our insolence:

Santa Abhishanth me Rithvik Srinivas Jayesh Atin DivX Nayyar BCBKDK Sankeerth Geeth Golu Trinath Paritosh Vellu Udit Mayank Gaurav Arpit Reddy Ravi RaKaMuMa(as I call them) Sindhur Mandu:) Krishnan Arjun and Gogte whew!!!

A year that began with us, arguably the 'lite'-est wing on campus, giving the regulations a damn and taking to life as it came, soon changed when we landed with a couple of horrible results(all except the gods PUGR, of course, but more on that earlier)...2nd sem saw us change for the better(hope so at least, cuz CG cards haven't yet arrived!!).

All that's happened all throughout the course of an amazing 1st year is definitely not clear.....but what is crystal clear was after all the sight of the wing at 4:30 pm on the 15th....when Gaurav had gone with his friends from Bhilwara and I was wandering the dusty corridor by myself, peeking into the empty rooms and thinking about the times when they were full...
Melancholic me. But there it is.
Adieu, Ram Bhawan and wingies.

Tears,
Janus

P.S.: However, for the 10 or so of us who have spilled over into our new wing, we have managed to get a total b****** of a warden for 2nd year! Looks like a lot of fun awaits us next sem too :)

Of Rishikesh, Rafting and Rascals

‘...and the last puff of the daywind brought from unseen villages the scent of damp wood-smoke, hot cakes, dripping undergrowth, and rotting pine-cones. That is the true smell of the Himalayas, and if once it creeps into the blood of a man, that no man will at the last forgetting all else, return to the hills to die.....’ - Rudyard Kipling



This post is at the wrong place. and certainly at the wrong time. Methinks it should have been published long, long ago, at the time it actually happened. Because, with the passage of time, certain impressions do appear to fade out.....I don't know exactly how much of the Rishikesh trip has faded from memory, but this is my last, brave attempt to try and get it into my blogosphere.....



I guess it all began with Apogee 08, our much-hated-and-loved techfest. Though definitely not in the same league as the cultfest Oasis, Apogee does bring loads of people together for some truly 'serious' fun, if you get what I mean. This Apogee, I "turned against my own people", so to speak i.e. ditched the Instruites to do a EEE project. No particular reasons behind it; I just liked the idea of a writing robot better than that of a tile-factory Anyways, working with the EEE assoc was a good experience. So much so that when the assoc suggested a post-Apogee trip to Rishikesh, with white-water rafting as part of the package, I was more than willing to tag along, ans so I did......



Its 8 hours from here to Rishikesh. Packed into the rear of a Qualis, with three other 1st-yearites (introducing: Ishan, Aparajita and Sandeep! The 4th 1st-yearite Apoorva was in another Qualis! And hey, I'm giving stupid !s after every sentence!), we spent the hours discussing about some things I don't exactly remember, making each other go to sleep only to poke them into wakefulness again and having a laugh, making small talk with the seniors in front, or just drowsily looking through glass panes at pinpricks and processions of tiny lights scattered in the distant night....

The next day, dawned bright and sunny (although we were sleeping and we didn't notice it when it did), and the straight roads had given way to winding ones as we climbed up and up the mountains. Finally the giant jhula came into view, and into the small town of Lachchman Jhula we had arrived.

Following a quick breakfast, some informal moments spent on the roof admiring the quaint beauty of Rishikesh and the majesty of the mountains towering all around it, and it was time for rafting.

Off we went on 2 rickety buses into the heart of the mountains, singing a few stupid songs, most of them, I am slightly ashamed to say, being Tamil. However, the half-hour ride was one of the most breathtaking I have ever seen, as the mighty Ganges below, in her most untamed form, twisted and turned with us. On reaching the camp; we were given 1) rafting equipment, 2) a team name(myrmidons in our case, I think), 3) a spot of anadulterated gyaan ; a pep talk about rafting(although it mostly focused on what to do if you fell out of the boat, or the boat turned over, both NOT very encouraging ideas). Then some 8 of us were packed in a bright orange thing with a cheerful Tibetan instructor, and off we went.

Rafting was, barring my Water Kingdom's "Amazonia" ride, the most amazing thing I have done in my life. It takes a pretty good deal of effort to row along in silent waters, but when in rapids, which the dinghy rearing and bucking beneath you even as sheets of water rise to strike you in the face, maintaining balance itself can be very difficult indeed. But you have to balance, bcuz you have to row, else you'd never cross a single rapid! Sounds a tad daunting but we did cross nearly twenty rapids :) . We also jumped off a 25m hgh cliff into the water. Sounds easy? Try it.

The night was comparatively uneventful...we went touring in Rishikesh, saw it sights and sounds, that included a loads of uncanny and uncouth male hippies, and some rather hot female ones....All in all, I would call the place rather weird. With its 'pious' populace, rundown motels and bright t-shirts and motifs of Hindu gods and goddesses everywhere, I guess this would have been one of the prime seats of the 1970s 'psychedelic Hinduism', popularized by the Beatles, and, of course, Zeenat Aman in 'Dum Maro Dum'.........

A word about the Lachchman Jhula : it stands now as a sorry testimony to the ravages of modern times....the descriptions of Satyajit Ray, Corbett and Kipling seem progessively more obsolete. I saw none of the beauty they have described. Instead, the thing looks like a giant fragment of rubbish, with stains of paan, political slogans and posters, and rotting girders.....

The next morning, we called it a day, or two, and returned..........

Cheers,

inJanus

Kingdom of Boredom........

"And to the Child I say,
that thine shall be the Kingdom of Heaven...."
(....and that of boredom too maybe....)
-Christ in the Bible

Frank admission: Life's isn't always haa-haa-hee-hee.....many-a-times, you do end up like me right now, staring at a terminal and typing away for the heck of it 'cuz there isn't really much else to do at the moment. These moments, albeit few and far between, do tend to envelop you with the so-called 'sickly hues of paranoia' (as someone I know might say), and you may feel the all-too-familiar sense of alienation and, shall we say, inadequacy?

In such times, follow these rules:

DO NOT dramatically leap off buildings that may not really be high enough for you to actually get killed. DO NOT take excess sleeping pills (you may accidentally take something else instead and end up like the guy in Scary Movie). DO NOT beat your chest and scream....you will thereby be disproving Darwin, by proving that humans can evolve backwards into lesser primates should need arise. AND......DO NOT, DO NOT EVER sit like a dumbfuck in front of a computer screen and type random arbit rubbish!!!

There, I'm done, post over. That's some seriously solid advice written above. Do follow it.

Good night,
Janus Gunganus

Grubby thoughts

"Grub chalo!!"
- spoof of Netaji's famous quote "Delhi chalo!!" (on one of our grub posters)....

Now for those who came in late........
Here I am, one fine Saturday morning, as my roomie and the rest of my wing slumbers, I type away on my laptop........simply because there is no time. The last week was a very hectic one, and this one promises to be equally, if not more, hectic. For very different reasons of course.

Of the many forms of 'events' that characterize BITS-Pilani, perhaps the most unique are the annual 'grubs' or food-fests that are put up by every regional assoc. So it was no surprise, ardent foodies that we bongs are known to be, the planning and work started as long as (whoa!) 3 weeks beforehand!!

Itt all kicked off as this huge meeting in FD3 where menu after menu was proposed and subsequently disposed, with us 1st-yearites giving extravagant ideas and our seniors rejecting them on grounds of 'economics' and 'feasibility' (or some similar shit), followed by a rather early date for the grub, which meant we had to start work at once!! We (the 1st yr guys, that is) got a chance to get as close to the hallowed Meera Bhawan as legalities would permit, since we spent whole afternoons with the girls making banners and messads for the grub. Then there were mess-sittings, when we used our best diplomatic skills(hem hem!) to make as many unsuspecting people sign up for the grub as possible.

After a lull for a few days, it was D-day.

We had been strictly instructed by our seniors "Shob lecture guss korbi!" for the purpose of decoration. Well, most of us complied, apart from a few (in)sincere people like Rashmi, who did manage to paint alpana and attend all her lectures too, God bless her. With the help of geniuses like Rwito da and Shouri da the decorations ranged from weird to wonderful.......the highlight being the 3D rosogolla pot that was stuffed with thermocol rosogollas. Meanwhile in the deepest recesses of the messes, the chilly fish was ready, and soon we started sampling fish, mutton and numerous other delicacies......until, that is, Antara di issued a chilling warning to any fish-picketers.

Evening set in.....we rushed to our rooms, got into traditional ensembles and then promptly rushed back (we had it easier in kurta-pyjama than the girls in their aatpouro sarees )..... and then it began. There's no short way to describe the management or the exact proceedings of the grub. It was chaotic, but with the two stalwarts (Ron da in VKB and Soumava da in RPA) doing the rounds, everything was bound to turn out right in the end. And so it did. After the ending of the official grub, our grub began, and how. Out came the special sweets tins reserved for the Moruchayites, including one much-sought-after tin of nalen-gurer rosogolla,a nd a feast like no ther began......all this of course, interspersed with a lot of chatter and group photos, an unsuccesful attempt at marriage for Antara di (which made her momentarily livid), and the de-dhotification of Saikat da and Babali da, the only two people who had decided to go a step further towards traditional attire, and paid for it by returning home in shorts.

And next week, well, next week, Test 1 begins (sigh)! And given my ambitions this sem, I think its gonna be a long time before I start blogging again.

So adias,
Janus

Ramblings in a new year

"Its a new world,
Its a new plan....
And I'm waiting for you...
Here I Am" - Bryan Adams, "Here I Am".

Well, so here we are!!! Brand new year, new clothes, newly expanded stomach caused by oodles of good food, new shoes, new "resolutions"(what shit) etc. etc.
...but a much older person.

19 years have flown by, and I guess its time to look back.

This holiday has been a mixed bag of sorts, a sort of compendium of joy and boredom. The 'joy' part was primarily in Kolkata, where all of us brothers ans sisters met up. First we saw two really amazing movies...."Kailashe Kelenkari" was special 'cuz for us Bengalis, Felu-da is as much a part of the Bengali sentient as is the taste of ilish or the sound of the Durga Puja dhaak. "Taare Zameen Par" is better, though.
Kolkata is one amazing city. It can fill you up with its sights and sounds.....and I love everything about it, from the rundown tramlines at Behala, the magnificent view of the river Hooghly, with its launch-boats, washermen at the banks, and the grey, dull fog that sets over it in winter, the old-house charm of New Market, to the swank malls at City Centre, Kolkata is one kaleidoscope of humanity, and I was lucky that, since I was mainly more with my brothers and sisters, all of us had a lot of fun. The fun, though, didn't only comprise tours and the like....there were also the winter evenings spent at our Deshapriya Park home, with us playing cricket, scrabble, or some other invented-on-the-spot game.

So.....if that's all the happiness, where did the boredom comes from? It just that I'm bored big-time from parental shackles.....if that's putting it a bit too harshly, I'm sorry, 'cuz my parents really are the world's best. Point is, I am seriously beginning to detest parental care and protection, and I don't know why.

I broke off from the typical I-personify-acads image after Class 8, when I'd been averaging about 95% in my finals for 3 years, and inwardly hating myself for it. I found something I could really put my soul into in the form of debating, where all my prizes and awards helped me believe I was NOT a nerd. Then vice-captainship came calling. The day that Shamik and I lifted the Best House trophy before the whole of St. Pats on Sports Day frankly ranks as the proudest in my life.

Then, again, parents took a real backseat I was packed off to RKM Vidyapith for my +2, a place with no TV or net. We were bound completely within its walls, no outside food, no clothes except the 4 uniforms provided, no musical programs except devotional songs, no other books or magazines than what the school gave us. And loads to study.

But rules are always meant to be broken, and the joy of doing so was beyond description. Feasts with "illegally" bought food (pre-ordered samosas and the like, lobbed over the school walls at an appropriate time and place), the regular 20-minute addas (9:30 to 9:50) every night in Room 5, stashing cheap porn magazines for later perusal in dormitory ventilators, occasionally being middlemen between our Arif-da and his lady love D______, et al. They were magical times.

And.....so......where does it all end up now?? In BITS, where there really aren't anymore rules to break. Where good jobs are just waiting to be taken. just being at BITS is more fun than I can ever imagine, and I'm really happy God has given me so much.

So, self-introspection complete, I find that I'm really happy. Of course, a lot is left to do....my grades aren't good.....and I would like to find a few girlfriends, but that's about it.

Besides, happy birthday to me! I'm 19 now. The number makes me feel all grown-up and shit, though I know that I'm not really as grown-up as I should be!!!

So here's to another great year!!!

Cheers,
SS