Another Mortal Life

1. I would make lesser use of internet. With the negligible net speed, it's the worst way of wasting time.

2. Engineering be damned. The engineering, the way it is taught, be damned. I made my decision. Countdown: 10 months remaining. I wish there were a Howard Roark in me.

3. I must keep in my mind that reading literature, newspapers, watching movies etc are better ways of time-pass than gossiping, playing cards, computer games etc.

4. The nearby Dhaba, excepting its chai, would be avoided as far as possible. The same for the temporary canteen. The tasteless food we get in the mess is, at least, hygienic, and presumably nutritious too.

5. AA would suffer less of my black humour. Also, I wouldn't allow myself to take an active part when C pulls N's leg (No such thing for the vice versa). There are many more decisions like these, but I don't find them suitable to be listed here.
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The things you own end up owning you.
- Fight Club

Everything they taught us about self-discipline, keeping-your-cool, manners etc is rubbish. I feel good with my anger. It makes me feel that I'm still me. The original, elemental form of me. Closer to soul.

"Good morning, sir."

The professor nodded, with a smile; walked past, then turned back and said, "Hey.."

"Yes, sir..??"

"What's your name.. Vikram, right?"

"Yes, sir. It's long time since I did your course!"- said I, surprised, and somewhat delighted too; but more than that, Curious to know how he remembers me even after two and a half years of that course.

"Oh yeah, and You were the guy who came in my class 1.5 hrs late, in a tutorial of 2 hours."

Not knowing what to say, I just smiled, and started looking down.

"Hmm.. I still remember what you said that day: "Sir, I won't ask for attendance. I really want to attend this class." " - he said, walking away smiling.
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Trust professors of IITD for remembering their students by their names, or by their deeds.
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(At the end of that class, he had called everybody's name; mine too. I didn't respond. He smiled, and marked a 'P'.)

Visited the Samadhi of Baba Ramdevji Pir in Pokhran, Jaisalmer this weekend.
I've been feeling quite spiritual lately. Still, deep inside, I know I am not a religious person. I can't get myself to perform a pooja without somebody's insistence. It's not in my hands, God, you just didn't make me like that ('if at all you did make me' is a phrase too natural for me to add to it, and you know it well if you've been a regular reader of this blog; but, not this time.)
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India has, for long, been a country where one's faith makes another's living. But some people just overdo it. At least don't do it in the very premises of your Lord's birthplace. Please.
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We all thought of Pokhran as some barren land which the government found the most apt for nuclear tests. But believe me, there is life, good enough vegetation cover, drinking water etc. The area is rocky, more rocky than Delhi. There is sand, but not like the infinite spread of it we are shown on screen.
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There is a myth in the region which goes like Baba Ramdevji took Samadhi on the top of a hill and then, few hours later, he showed up to one of his followers. The follower told people that He is still alive and so they dug up the Samadhi, as a punishment for which Baba cursed them- "Generations of you people will be born disabled". So, looks like the government of India was fated to do nuclear tests there! (This is what people call 'a bad PJ'.)
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The urbanization robbed us of what we call the natural human behaviour. In pokhran, 4 hours from Jodhpur, you get to know what it is. It must have been divine, eons ago, to be human.
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Desert women are beautiful. Yes, they are. The glint in their eyes more than makes up for what heat of the sun robs them of. No, Paulo Coelho didn't say that, but his book was just the perfect companion I could have had during the journey. The next guy who would get 'The Alchemist' issued from the library would also feel some sand particles shearing against his hands when he reads this wonderful story. Set in one desert, autographed by another.

My worst fears never come true. Never ever. Must thank God for that. (Bad things happen. They do. But only when I'm not even slightly apprehensive.)
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Liked that girl. Sincerely. Really. Not any more though. Last word.
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People continue to bug me. I don't give them a damn. Oh! I contradicted myself.
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Could've felt good to find my face declared 96% look-alike of a celebrity.. if only she were male. Hell, these non-sense sites. Anyway, downloaded and watched the Bond movie she featured in. Found a 3-min pornography-clip of her the next day on our hostel LAN!
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People do drugs. Fine. (Everybody has every right to fuck up his/her own life.) Then, they try to persuade others to do the same. Holy shit.
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Three years back, during this very week, time wasn't very good. "I never gave up"- is one thing I'm very sure of about those days. Those otherwise-so-difficult-times have been my strength ever since. There have been moments when I tell myself, "If I didn't give up then, there is no way I'd give up now"
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Life goes on. It will. It must.
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It should, in fact.
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See you. Soon. Not very soon though.

Dhundhali dhundhali si shaamo.n mein
Dabdabaai, adhkhuli in palako.n se
Ghane kohre mein zindagi ko khete
Main kabhi kabhi yun hi chal deta hun

Kuchh tasveerein aankho.n mein bhee.nche
Baadal ki kaali parto.n ke peechhe
Raaho.n mein ek disha dhoondhte
Main kabhi kabhi yun hi chal deta hun

Anjaani duniya ko paate khote
Bache khuche sapanon ko chunte
Kachche dhaage mein unko pirote
Main kabhi kabhi yun hi chal deta hun

Haar jeet ke daanv pench se
Sukh aur dukh ki aankh meech se
Main kabhi ghabaraake, kabhi khush hoke
To kabhi kabhi bas yun hi chal deta hun

Despite all the talks about the need for expression, there is a certain peace that comes only with the inability to give voice to thoughts.