An Evening Walk

For those who wish to see a cheerful fun filled post this may not sound inviting. You may wish to stay back. I have tried my hand once again at a senti post. Once you finish reading this post, in all likelihood, you will get a feeling of watching a Cheran’s film. Cheran is one director turned actor who produces and directs emotion packed films set up against the backdrop of a village with the plot revolving around its cultural milieu. The hero himself weeps for the most part in those films. A kerchief or two may come to your rescue. Though I belong to the fortunate lot who missed those films, I can still assure you that this is of the same genre. There is nothing special about this post-this is just run of the mill.

It was the day after I bid adieu to the University exams. For the past one month I was stuck in the thick of it and its all over now. It left me listless. I just sat around the whole day doing nothing constructive. It was a wilful and deliberate seclusion from the demands of the competitive world. I decided to take a few hours off from my laptop, a break from the excitement of Google-Orkut-Facebook, from the obsession of the virtual world and meet the real world. With no enticing options before me, I decided to take a long walk to rejuvenate myself and regain my lost temperament. A walk away from the cacophony of everyday life. A walk without caring a whit on what next.

When I stepped from my home I was completely clueless as to where to go. I walked in a slower pace which is rather an unusual thing. I walked to engage my senses and just breathe in the fresh evening air. It was raining all through the day. I felt the fresh wind blowing across my face. It was relaxing and rejuvenating to walk across the road less traveled. I could feel the tranquillity and privacy which deeply reflected my mood. I embraced the solitude as I walked past the road and it reminded me of the poem by Robert Frost

“But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep”

I then walked through the streets where I spent the most part of my childhood. I engaged myself in unforgettable experiences. I walked past the tanned buildings standing erect for over a decade losing all its architectural beauty. I have seen them grow storey by storey. Those buildings have stood the test of time. Now it looked like the few old buildings shown in the Paint advertisements. I walked past the house where I lived. I remembered my little mischievous adventures. I remembered how I used to gloat over my victory by calling the flower vendor from behind him and escape the scene when he turns back. I remembered how I used to climb up through the windows to get the scale (my mother’s tool to lick me into shape) from loft and break it into pieces as a defence. I looked at the street whose length I used to measure by running to and fro holding my friend’s hand. I felt the dormant child in me raising its head. I wondered how melancholy struck me down the lane as I grew up. The Power of Time. This lady, now sans all the vigour, boldness and liveliness which was once vibrant.

I returned home with some good memories. Back to the place to get glued to the net once again. Back to find my forte, to play my part where I have the liberty of designing it, to raise my game, to face the reality. I know that I am too young to verbalize on the passage of Time for I have not reached the evening of my life yet. I don’t know what prompted me to scribble these. May be the song of Enya “Who can say where the road goes, Where the day flows, only time?” which I was hearing since morning brought out the Cheran in me.

Hope to be back with a cheerful post!

Countdown starts…Tick! Tick! Tick!

After a hectic college day, back home with a cup of coffee in hand and a soothing music in the background as I glanced through my mailbox, I saw the status message of one of my classmates which read “10 days to go” and it created a lump in my throat. Yeah only ten more days to go before drawing my college life to a close. You would have by this time stereotyped me as someone who is unduly pessimistic, one who always vehemently rails against something at all times, complains about silly issues (exams I mean). After all the rants, belabors and tension that a PG college life can give, it will always remain nostalgic bringing alive the poignant memories, reminiscing both the good and bad moments encountered, lived.

If I bottle up my feelings and defer it till the tenth day, I am sure I will loose the competitive advantage of being the first one in my class to write on the college life. Now that I have started one, I don’t mind even if others follow suit and parrot my words.

As I write this post, I am reminded of the lyrics from my thalaivar, the legend Kamal’s film Guna (enni paarkayil kavidhai kottudhu...adhai ezhudha ninaikkayil varthai muttudhu) I am struggling for want of words to describe my college days.

Enumerating all the incidents of college life will take at least a few MBs of scarce computer memory, so let me confine myself to the collection of a few light moments epitomized by humour.

When it comes to lectures, I am being tested for my patience at college by listening to a few which extends to 3 hrs each by knowledgeable professors who are keen to see us becoming consummate management professionals out in the industry. I have listened to a few interesting ones. Period. But I feel guilty for having paid scant attention to a few boring lectures, super boring lengthy case studies and the list goes on. I cannot be good at all times, you see.

All I have done is that I have mastered the art of daydreaming with eyes wide open. There have been various instances of me falling asleep also. The process starts with my eyesight becoming blurred, eyelids drooping and finally having a brief rendezvous with sleep and waking up to see my notes, trying to make sense out of it and going haywire and asking my friend by my side “Did the previous slide really contain these stuff?” and peep into her notes and she greeting me with a bizarre look and asking “Thoongittiya? (Did u sleep?)”. Believe me I had even gone to the stage of browsing to find out how to keep myself awake during lengthy lectures. We are back with the master plan and it goes like this, whenever we find the lecture not so interesting, we play cross and knots, think of the black forest ice-cream and water our mouth etc etc. Most of the class does the same except a few first benchers. As time goes on many become restless, keep glancing at watches and dropping things down. But one thing that constantly haunts me is that how professors could stand all these indifference at class and still continue with their commitment to teach being stopped only by the power cut at sharp 12 noon ( its been programmed I guess, some student must have bribed the person in charge). Now that we have only a few classes to attend before the semester breaks, I am a bit worried. The guilty conscience pricks me.

When it comes to presentations, the thing which I haven’t even dreamt that I ll ever do in my lifetime, I am a little jubilant about it now. I am really happy that I could overcome the fear. Worse still is that my friends are happy when I go and present something, not because of my presentation skill (don’t know If I really have one) but they can be free at least for the next 30 mins.

The assignment part is even worse. Lethargy, procrastination and what not. All these will motivate us not to submit on time though there is a little leeway allowed by our kind professors.

Keeping all these at bay, we still find time to rejuvenate ourselves. Birthday celebrations, cutting cakes, traditional day celebrations, friendly ridicules, self established groups and now the approaching management fest which gives a chance to leave our footprints. All these keep us going. We are looking forward to the approaching zeroth hour, the last day in college where there would be photograph and autograph sessions. But what next? Will there be rejoicing moments like these college days anymore...Gonna miss all.I would take this as an opportunity to thank all my friends and professors who made my college days worth remembering.

Years from now when I look back, all these will turn to be a fine nostalgia. Let the memories speak for itself.