Search

Random Thoughts

The World as I see it

Tag

Hostel

Another Heart Does Ache


tears2

With great care did I collect all the pearls of my dreams; with great aspirations did I polish them bright. Each breath of his made me alive. His happiness was the reason I lived. For years did I live for one reason… and then I was gone.

His innocent smile still rejuvenates my heart. His tears… well, they do moisten my heart but somewhere deep inside they foster a sense of relief… A relief that he is still my own. Oh time! You are way too cruel. You walk at your own pace. Traitor! You did rush around when he was here… didn’t you? And now when he is gone, you don’t seem to move at all! There was a time when I was happy running around the whole day… remember? And now my life has been so stagnant that it is eating me up.

“What do you do all day? Once dad has gone off to work, you stick to the TV… don’t you?”

Yes, my dear, I did stick to the TV all day. And magically does the havoc that you create each morning does restore back to peace. And the food that you demand – claiming full right – each day after you come back; that food is magically prepared by angels, right? Stupid! And why should I explain this to you now? Now you know it better. How long does it take to wash the clothes dear?

But… you know… in a sense you are right for my current situation. There is no one who creates havoc in the house each day. The sofa covers remain unwrinkled for ages. The same food is eaten for days. There is no one to scream to for not having lunch in time. Basically there is nothing to do.

So you know what do I do? I remain in illusion each day. After your dad leaves for the day, I imagine that you too have left for school. I wait for you. Each day, the clock ticks 2:30, I go out to see you coming; chatting with your friends. The school bus leaves, many children come back laughing and giggling. But you are not among them. Then I calculate the number of days left for your arrival. Unfortunately they are not days… they are months… sometimes a whole year. Well at least they say it so. For me, it seems to be ages. All blames on the bloody time. It doesn’t move at all. And then I sit back and cry sometimes… well most of the times. And then rush up and down the house doing nothing. Like a ghost in a haunted house.

And then in the evening when your dad comes back from work, we ask each other if you called. Mostly you don’t. “He must have been busy”. Then we again talk about you. What else can we talk about? I don’t understand his work. Then we mutually decide on a time to call you, or wait for your call. “He might have just returned.” “He might be sleeping.” “Today is Monday, he has a busy schedule on Mondays.” “Don’t call now! He might be in the canteen.”

And then, suddenly the phone rings. And then for a few minutes do we live. We live our whole day in a few minutes. And thus does rejoice our hearts. We laugh at your jokes, smile at your memories, cry at your loss and scold you for you nuisances. And hence thoughts, and thoughts alone do remain and hence ends our day; probably an era of living without you.

I know you have gone to reach the stars, to fulfill your dreams. But what can one do when the reason to live has gone away? One goes along with him. So here am I living a dual identity. Well… single to be precise… The only identity I have is with you. When your wounds bleed, so does my heart. When you cry, another heart does ache.

The Silent Spectator


Living in a sea of dust is an experience in itself. An experience which does not befriend many. And oddly enough the experience is not one that I hate. Living within 50 meters of three JCB’s (showing their extraordinary acrobatic skills), two construction cranes and hundreds of striking hammers is actually thrilling – to say the least. After all, who won’t inhale a ‘bit’ of dust for all the excitement?

Anyways… the fact of the matter is that at the moment, the sea of dust has calmed down. The JCB’s are resting cuddled up in the blanket of this dark night, and the hundred pairs of hands are in their dreamland, carving aspirations of their uncertain future. And I am staring at the top right corner of my laptop which shows 12:15 AM. So all of you those who are, or have been in hostels, a hearty good evening to them. The same goes for all the students in their late teens, inseperable lovers and other nocturnal beings. To the others, sorry for disturbing your midnight sleep.

And what am I actually doing in this sleepy world? Well, one of the most favorite tasks of mine – doing nothing. Really… absolutely nothing. And believe me, this is one of the busiest things in this world. To think nothing at all. Just observe. Be a silent spectator to this silent world which ironically is bubbling with chaos and commotion. Don’t believe me? Okay then…

Think of the security guard strolling around in the hostel. Eyes begging for sleep; mind cursing a moron whose constant stare doesn’t let his eyelids come closer. But is he desperate for a sleep? Nah… Proof? A boy does up to him and asks, “Ki dada? Kemon cholchhe?” (What’s up bro?) and there starts the conversation. Five minutes later, Indian politics becomes the hot topic on the table which a moment ago rested a dozing soul. That person is not really sleepy. He is starving. Starving for company… Battling against boredom in this chilly night.

Nights are subtle, shrewd, mysterious, lonely things. In its embrace lies only silence. But silence has a language of its own. It speaks. It speaks through fear – in the eyes of a girl trapped on a lonely road, trying to get back home. It speaks through tears – in the memory of a long lost love. It speaks through thoughts – in the focused vision of the visionary. It speaks through dreams – to achieve the un-achieved. It speaks through joy – of the ecstatic achievements of the day. It speaks through hopes – of a brighter tomorrow which we may just witness.

A night has a long silent story to tell. And you too can listen to it. All you have to do is be be silent and listen… All you have to be is the silent spectator.

Inspired by The Outsiders

In the Hunt of an Internship


Image

Welcome to IISER Kolkata’s APC Roy Boys’ Hostel – housing 300 of the brightest minds of the country in a 3 storied – 2 winged building. Here you would find the marvelous gray matters doing everything but studying. There are many interesting aspects to the life at APC Roy like the ‘ultra-mechanized’ students’ canteen, the bathroom singers and the colorful language of ours… Not to forget the frequent and regular ‘snake encounters’. This feature is unique to our hostels. Since our arrival here, we have been acclimatized to seeing snakes to an extent that now we seemingly don’t fear them (probably it is the other way round). People say that the life must be great as we are the holders of the largest scholarship in the country. But alas they miss out one of the vital pains of our hearts – The struggle to hold on to the scholarship…

Early August: Session begins

Summer Vacations have ended… People sharing experiences of the ‘research projects’ they underwent – well theoretically. In reality…

SDG: Dude! That is what you call a beauty… Smoking Hot! I’m telling you, she’s going to be mine within weeks… Just wait and watch

MP: Don’t tell me… I have heard it time and again. Give me a break…

SDG: No man this time it is serious… Just wait and watch…

AS: Great man! I see determination in your voice!

SDG: Don’t you?

AS: Sure… So when is the treat?

SDG: In the next life… You moron!

Late August to Early September

This is when the heat rises… the hunt for internships begin. We need to do an internship each year to extend out fellowships. But as it always happens… there is a small problem… who will take us?

AS: So, what about next year?

SDG: Hmm… Would have to apply again! What the hell! Not again!

SG: Why now? Relax… We have just finished one…

MP: We have to hurry up… don’t want to be in a hurry like the last year.

September to March

This is the peak time for applications. The process starts off by a careful selection of mentors: their work, profile, availability etc. Everyone starts with high hopes. As usual there are a few lucky chaps who get their internships early and as usual… this puts on additional pressure on the rest of them. Time passes by and down go the hopes as each one awaits a single positive response. Those lucky are envied. Mails are sent more frequently and (more importantly) more randomly. Terms of friendship change…

MP (as usual peeping through the window): Any mails as yet? (Mail=Positive Response)

SDG: There is one I received, but it says that the lab is full…

MP: Heard that SP has got one…

AS: What the… Why always him? UM has got one too… SM is deciding between Stanford and Max Planck…

SDG: As usual, I am doomed…

MP: So am I, 50 mails; 2 responses; both negative

SDG: What the hell do they write to get one?

AS: I don’t understand why the Profs don’t reply? Do they ever read the mails or do they filter out all our mails?

One fine day when AS lazily was strolling outside his room; SG literally comes running to him and jumps onto him with ecstasy…

SG: Got it! Got it! A positive response from Caltech!

AS (with an expression too weird to describe): That’s great! Fantastic!

SG: I was browsing hopelessly for a professor somewhere, as all of a sudden my mailbox shows of this new new mail… Yippee…

AS: Well done man!

AS returns to the room with a hung face; and declares

AS: SG… Caltech…

MP (who has not got an internship yet): Oh no! Not Caltech! How can he… I mean… SG is going to CALTECH???

SP (who has got one): OK, that’s fine… What is the fuss all about?

AS: Shut up you moron!

One of the most pathetic situation is that of a person whose both the room-mates are going abroad and he is struggling hard to get one even within the country. Amidst all the mutual discussions of the visa process, air tickets and dreams of the foreign land; the one on the receiving end finds himself in an ocean of utter discomfort. Helplessly staring as a deer, he turns to one who never disappoints him – the pair of earphones – and tries to shield himself from the ‘noise’ (although he nostly doesn’t succeed…). At this moment it is only natural to realise the truth of the famous dialogue from the movie 3 idiots

Agar dost fail ho jaye to dukh hota hai… Par agar dost first aa jaye to aur jyada dukh hota hai…

Although the emotions, the disappointment and the disgust is only transient and temporary, one gets the true feeling of restlessness as he journeys through…

I feel I will miss these days when I pass out. This hunt has taught us a lot… How to write mails – LOTS OF MAILS; How to negotiate; What does it mean to try desperately and above all How does a hard earned success feel like…

Disclaimer

All the people named here are very very good friends of mine. The article is an earnest attempt to bring a smile on your face and is meant to be taken in good humour. No inferences whatsoever must be drawn on the nature, character etc. of all those named (if you ever get to know their real names).


Solitary Amidst the Green

Waiting for comrades…

Photo Credit: Subhradeep Misra

Let the randomness of the universe increase forever…

– The Introvert

Through the Curtains of Fog


Here are some snapshots from around my hostel, taken early morning…

Image

Image

Image

Image

ImageImage

Lifeless Life


1307589-1366x768-[DesktopNexus.com]

I remember those eyes brimming with tears

Innumerable doubts and unknown fears

Firm in belief that heLi would earn fame

But when he comes back, will he be the same?

The world is cruel and harsh and mean

But for him it’s mainly unseen

What if his friends don’t cooperate

Or if he is lost at night and it’s late?

Confusion and chaos fill up her head

And then I saw the lines unread

What happens to her when I bid adieu

When things to do are a countable few

For whom would she prepare; with no one to eat;

The wonderful delicacies and the occasional treat?

Whom would she talk to when on a low;

Won’t her life become way too slow?

No one to talk; no one to hear

No one to share, joy or fear

No grief to be lost, no joy to be found

How lifeless will be life, with no one around?

The Joy that will never Perish


Being born and brought up in Indian culture; the ideas of mythology always fascinated me. And browsing though ‘religious’ books, watching TV soaps and through general discussions, one thing was very clear to me – there is something called ‘moksha’ that was sort of ‘preached’ to us as our aim of life. It was presented in a way that this is what we live for; this is what we must strive to achieve. As I grew up meaning of the word, became clearer to me; and simultaneously did the question – Why Moksha – became more tempting to me.

Let me first tell you how is the concept portrayed to the general Indian. We were told that once we die, we are bound to be reborn in some other form. Death is nothing but the departure of the soul from the body. This soul enters another body to give birth to an individual. They say that in a lifetime body suffers through sorrows. And hence we must make efforts to free the soul from the birth cycle and gain never ending joy. This freedom is what is called moksha. How do we achieve moksha? By doing ‘good deeds’.

Somehow this idea did not fit into the scheme of my logic. Too abstract for my appetite. I had to find out what does this actually boil down so that a person as crazy as me can digest. And hence sat a group of philosophical lunatics of the hostel to materialise the abstract. And that discussion – which ended at 3 am that night – added a dimension to look at life.

“Turns out that it is true that in a lifetime, we come across many sorrows; moments of shattered hopes and grave depression. But no one can deny the fact that life gives moments of joy, excitement, fun, love, peace and satisfaction. So the argument of the orthodox that life is full of sorrows stands on shaky grounds. The concept of rebirth is speculative. If I do not know whether or not I would ever be reborn, why should I care about what is going to happen in the next birth?”

OK, I get your point, but if I don’t care about what is going to happen after I die, what do I care about? Umm…of course my present life. So what does a person seek in life? Well surely… not money as it is only an agent…”

“Agent to do what? Buy… buy what? Happiness… Yes got it! We seek happiness. Or things which make us happy. Like we seek money to buy things of luxury; we seek fame as someone praising us makes us happy. We seek to listen to songs, go for outing; and that makes us happy. Gotcha!”

“But I you look carefully, there is one cause of all happiness – Realisation – you earn money; buy an air conditioner to realise what it feels like to be in an air-conditioned room. You go to Kashmir to realise what it feels like to be in a paradise. You seek beautiful places to realise that such masterpieces exist in nature. What is the greatest realisation? What is it that gives you unbound joy?”

“To know something is truly a joy forever. To discover how mysteries of nature unfold is what gives joy whenever we think of it. If the smallest of discoveries like how to make a pebble bounce on water, how to climb a tree and how to plant a sapling can give us unparalleled joy, how joyous would be the moment when we know why the nature is the way it is?

The magical words had been spelled. The answer was there for the taking. To have a complete knowledge of how nature works is what I believe  Moksha is supposed to mean. Moksha is freedom in true sense. Freedom from all sorrows because if you know nature, you would be able to realise that all the materialistic sorrows have to perish and all materialistic joy has to end. What will sustain is the eternal joy – the joy of knowing everything…

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑