You can cease to be a Death Eater (and that takes inhuman effort), but you can’t erase the Dark Mark.
For the uninitiated, that’s my attempt at doodling on my hand.
Feedback forms are everywhere these days. Go to any restaurant, departmental store, even some roadside health checkup stalls, and they greet you in the end with those forms. I actually like filling those forms! If you are made of such stuff that pranks come naturally to you, you won’t miss such occasions. The ritual of writing phone number and address of your friends in feedback forms pays, when everytime those friends receive some message and bang on your door – the pleasure cannot be described.
I thought it was a great idea, and then it happened.
Moments ago, I got a message from TM-Naturals: Dear Deepa Thanks for visiting saligramam naturals, for suggestions contact 9884900160.
@Deepa: Whoever you are, you are warned. I will find out your number. I will use it. And I will be mean to you.
I want to tell a story. Some story. I am looking for one, to tell. Through video. If you have something original, do tell me. The enthusiasm may not last long.
Classes have begun, after what seemed to be long long time. When April exams were over, I knew it won’t be just another summer break, but I had no clue that it would seem to be so long either. Life since has been, to quote Evanna Lynch, “exceptionally ordinary” with random exciting peaks dotting the regular affairs. I will relive some moments of the past few months here; call it updates or whatever.
This was undoubtedly the best part of summer internship. Bhondu’s didi was getting married and most of us decided to be there. For parents, it does feel special when two guys from Delhi, one from Haryana, two from Chennai, one from Pune, one from Bangalore, one from Ujjain and three from Bhopal come together to celebrate their daughter’s big day. And we had fun!
Some high points of the 4-day trip:
- Playing a prank on Neta when he came to receive me and Ghalib at Bhopal station.
- Lazily spent morning at FKD’s weird house; omlette-maggi.
- Beer at Bhopal Lake.
- Cold coffee at Neta’s house at night, made by me and styled by Ghalib.
- Dhamki’s incessant fart.
- Preparing and performing a song for didi’s birthday (which happened a day before her wedding); Ghalib wrote the lyrics and Neta and FKD prepared the music, everything on the way to Indore, in a Tavera.
- The handmade birthday card – crayons on paper.
- Red and yellow roses that we were supposed to present to any girl in the wedding.
- Bhondu’s cousin Shruti.
- Bhasmaarti at Ujjain’s Mahakaleshwar temple; Moli’s unexpected recital of some aarti (no pun intended).
- Tattu’s family eying me suspiciously after they saw a video of what we do here in insti.
- ‘At last we managed to have coffee’ at Bhopal station.
This time it was the ring ceremony of Ghalib’s sister, and it marked my first visit to Haryana. Had nice time there, though only a few hours. And those few hours were filled with beer, thanks to several uncles who wouldn’t let me leave their table!
It was a big day. A variety of emotions was on the loose. It was one of those times when friends were ecstatic for one moment and sad for the next. Some friends had a hard time being at ease with the haunting hollow feeling. Some friends left soon after with a final good bye. And there I stood, not knowing what to do and how to bring smiles to everyone around. It’s not impossible to achieve two things at a time, but I failed in both!
Few days later, our campus was swarmed with freshies. You could see them everywhere, each with a dozen guardians. The one word that came to me in those days was: Bheed. Tifanys had a queue running till the entrance, the departmental store at Gurunath had three layers of people inside, Himalaya lawns were so full you could hardly see the grass. They were everywhere! You could hear them cribbing about triple occupancy, about poor cellphone signal, about every damn thing. As if we seniors were some species whose existence they need not consider/fear at all!
It is different. Very different from the past four years. I longed to see familiar faces in the initial days of the semester. From mess to Guru, every place was filled with strangers. It was a strange out-of-the-place feeling!
We shifted from 9th wing to 10th wing, but here it’s like everyday wears off one at a time. It’s as if no one wants to think of this wing or this year on a broad level.
My department has changed significantly. What used to be the big examination hall on 3rd floor has now been divided into two classrooms. Two smaller classrooms on the 2nd floor have been joined together to form a bigger one. Some professors’ rooms are also being worked upon. The seminar hall is complete now, but it hardly sports the grandeur that it once did, before burning down. Only things that remain the same are the benches and tables in the classes, bearing all our graffiti of past years. All those “Upar dekh, kutte ke lund” and “Nehaluv” are still there, to remind us of the batch mates who are not there. 🙂