I wanna love my life.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
I wanna love my life.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Monday, April 11, 2011
For all who took it
Today was JEE.
Sitting in a really nice university, when I log in to an e-paper I can see pictures of students getting out of the entrance test centers. Sitting in a really nice university, I realize that I could have been one of them.
Five of my friends rejoined, revived, and re-activated their facebook accounts today after three years. And made me realize that they existed. I talked to them, one was very happy, three were skeptical, the fifth one never replied. Maybe he forgot about my existence during the past three years.
Crammed in rooms, crammed with books, a million lives in our country study for this entrance, and each one of them wants to be there, there in that IIT. Because they know that if they won’t be there, they will be everywhere where everyone is. Call this a disillusion rendered by our country, or our childhood, or our ambition of the highest, or our nation’s failure to provide the highest to everyone, every guy and girl studying for it has the same desire. And only a portion gets selected, or lets call it a percent. That is what makes this entrance special, for it’s a heart break!
But be it two years or three years, each one of these students has done his sums, and preparation and each one of them have done more than I have ever done in my life. Years of their childhood spent in hard work.
It shows how much dedication it takes,
and pain.
Today was JEE
We usually celebrate achievement,
Lets celebrate desire and passion today.
For all the JEEians, who may or maybe not be IITians,
Salute :)
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Old beds.
As the sun finally set, he pushed the curtain to cover the windows. The sunset of the day felt weird to him, one could feel that he didn’t really like it. Barefoot, he stood there touching the wooden rough of his newly acquired cupboard. No, this wood is too new to be loved, he thought. It certainly was, as the cupboard was newly made out of freshly cut wood, and thus devoid of any history or scar.
As the cold stung his bare feet, he moved them towards his new shoes that shone the color white. For a moment, he remembered his mud clad sneakers, and the memory of scrapping out the mud from it using broken branches of the small tree outside his home. He a moment, he smiled at its dirty image in his mind, which he had safely brought from his home.
A yawn struck him with comfort, but his mind wasn’t ready to give up dreaming for the day. Flattening his new brown sheet, he sat on the bed with his feet down. The bed was lower than the bed he had slept all his life on, and gave him no space to sway his legs freely. He realized that he will have to give up on a few too many habits.
The bed was monstrous, but pretty small for a soul to settle in. Its iron boundaries gave him the coldest and lifeless feeling a non living thing could. The room looked white to him in the bright light of the tubes, and he wondered if the yellow tinge of his old room will ever return to his eyes. He decided he disliked such a bright room. He scratched his head, and the yawn came back to revive his conflict between sadness and escape. Stretching his arm, he wrapped his finger around the beer bottle he got for himself. He wanted and had promised himself to gulp it all, once he was settled. He realized he was not. But the water droplets on the surface of the bottle were too sweet, and tempting to resist. And he didn’t want to, resist.
Squeak, squeaked a rat.
His neck turned, and his eyes met a small brown rat that was acting unusually slowly. Maybe, even he was new to the room, or like him, the whole town. He squeaked, again. He was small, his eyes made the observation again. The rat darted off towards his cupboard, and his eyes darted after him. Squeak, it squeaked again. He smiled. He felt nice with a rat around. Both trapped in a place they want to run away from. But both had to be there to learn that they had to be there. Both couldn’t help.
The breeze came, and forced the curtain to fly. Maybe it is right this way, he mused. The intoxication can’t go on for years for sure, nor will the place. He decided to get used to the place, rather than the intoxication.