Life, the universe and everything.

D O N' T P A N I C

Tuesday, April 05, 2005

My life at Roorkee

FIRST YEAR

Goodbye was the word I muttered as the train disappeared
And alone was I left, a child so carefully and lovingly reared
Left alone to face the world, to venture into the vast unknown
Armed with few tears and dreams, without even a cell-phone

And so started my stint at Roorkee, I was to become an engineer
Why, you might ask, well, it was the only path that looked clear
Mechanical I chose, and thus with automobiles started my affair
Couldn’t help, Mech. being the branch avoided by the sex fairer

The first ragging that took place shook me completely to the core
Though nothing physical happened, I was emotionally quite sore
My first strip-tease, my first real gaali; long in the night I wept alone
But 15 days later, it all sounded amusing, days of turmoil all gone

First adventure to the movie hall in ragging period when we got caught
First visit to the holy canal, though nothing “holy” the seniors sought
Soon it was all over and we settled down in the daily routine and grind
And slowly I discovered those people, wonderful friends, I was lucky to find

Our experiment with Gunno’s rice cooker, with much ado and fanfare
The crackers in front of the warden’s room, executed with precision and care
Our trips to Mussorrie, for that very first snowfall and sights to behold
First swig of Whisky on Ghora’s persuasion, to chase away the cold

The craze of “Kya Ada kya jalwe tere Paro” and movie visits to Hardwar
It was here I started watching movies, which exceeded normality by far
My first ownership of English songs, and in rock, thus started my education
And this raw, middle class person started learning the tricks of sophistication

India’s agonizing loss to Sri Lanka in ‘95 world cup, and we mourned the loss
Unable to comprehend why Azhar did not choose to bat winning the toss
The NCC punishment, Guard of honor, and princely allowance for uniform
Daily homage to Civil Lines and Bhatia’s joint, come Tsunami or hailstorm

First year ended with an NCC camp at Kotdwar, 10 days of extreme living
Survived days on boiled eggs, cold nights: embracing: seeking heat and giving
Then came the real trek, to Tapoban, won heights with Maggi and determination
Slept in a lock-up, walked on glacier and admired nature’s amazing creation

SECOND YEAR

Second year: reality struck. Second largest fall (in marks) from I to II term
Ignoring the screaming truth, I refused to become the needed book worm
Applied to swimming camp again, only to be rejected (again) in the draw of lots
Fought vehemently to book in Alaknanda club, to get evening Billiards slots

Jaiswal’s obsession with the thousand versions of the “Macarena” song
The dirty Holi of more mud, less colors, Matki Fod, hungama and Bhaang
The meteor that struck in Civil department and the commotion it caused
Everyone knew it was a rumor nonetheless hoping it to be true, in heart

Merciless Ghora forcibly removed my nascent moustache and beard
This marked the beginning of the era of razor, which I had always feared

THIRD YEAR

The important question of the future plan came along with the third year
I still envy those who could plan, act accordingly with their minds clear
GRE books, flash cards and IMS material were the most common sight
And there were others who were ready to prove their mighty IT might

And there I was, still very unsure about what I was supposed to be doing
Afraid to take charge of the boat that so far, the fate had been rowing
I was certain of flunking the GRE and IT was all Latin and Greek
And how could I crack CAT, a glory so many brilliant thousands seek

To be continued...