Crap

originally a sketch i made for an assignment, it took me 8 hours making. was supposed to make a personal logo of sorts, incorporating all the aspects of my character, which each of my class-mates pointed out. They didn’t point out too many, but how many ever they did, i added them all in.

organised. cruel to my laptop [!]. thin. love my bag. and my short pants. writer. sketcher. helpful. speaker. articulate.

in the end, the prof rubbished my assignment, saying that it wasn’t enough of a ‘logo’. hehe…

p.s. yes, i’ve used only pencils to make it. and i also feel that the ‘organised’ aspect, though drawn, isn’t really what i am. dunno why my fellow-designers think so!

wanned to write sommet that deals with the above image. here goes.

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before techniche’08 began, i’d had these big plans; to document everything. write. and express. express the culmination of all what so many of us had been working for.

but when it did begin, the plans just fell apart. to put it naively : reading about techniche wouldn’t have been any help to you. you’ve gotta have been here. or else, i’d suggest you read about techniche in the blog of a participant. the emotions i’d express would be far too distant from the one’s a participant would.

to put it in perspective.

i’d get no prize money. i’d not win something. most likely, my event wouldn’t be as grand as i’d planned it to be. obviously, reality can never match up to the dreams. and most of all, i’d have observed the struggles and adjustments, the chaos and anarchy, that prevailed just behind the participant’s eyes. i’d even have observed how tired we all were, and how we wished for techniche to end, even at times wondered why it was even happening.

the participants, on the other hand, had a wholly different feeling. yes, they felt crushed when down. they were ecstatic when they won. they were mesmerised by the whole thing going on. and they had a ball. or maybe not.

then again, we were there. tired and shabby. running about. skipping meals only so that we may prepare the field for our participants. we felt content. and satisfied. complete. and that’s a feeling few else can share. not even most of the students i share this campus with. no, this was a feeling only a few of us had. that was our victory. and to me, that can’t be expressed. not by me. not on this blog.

above all, that’s why i like it.

techniche’08 has ended. and it was a success. yes, some things didn’t go as planned. and some things went so well, that we couldn’t manage it as we’d intended to. people said stuff. and sometimes, people said good stuff. not really. for techniche’08, they always said good stuff. because, that’s what it deserved.

here’s to those that made it happen. shady. ayya. baba. kushal. moya. mishra. sikka. guddi. thakur. battu. and more. and among them, somewhere, i hope,

me.

here’s saying, “see you around, reader. see you next year; if you feel like it, coz, we sure will.”

Last night saw me on a date. Just me, and my cycle. We drank to freedom. And to sadness.

My campus is splendid; 700 acres of bliss, they’d say. Then again, disrepair is a flaw so inherent in Indian society, that degrade is a visitor who just couldn’t be kept out.

Summer is on its way. And even the sporadic showers can’t stall the inevitable. The birds have left; the Siberian migrators were here for but a few days – i didn’t even get to observe them at length. The lake surface is vacant, and the ripples seem morose. The lake-sides have been cleared under the pretext of cleanliness drives, revealing the barren earth below – for once, i long for weeds to return. As if nature’s own measures hadn’t left me depressed, humans have gone on a construction spree, and marshes have been filled. Mountains have been carved away, to provide for the death of the marshes.

Trees are condemned to a handful of hillsides, wherein scoundrels await; axes poised in hand. Each dawn brings news of yet another bereavement. Freak-fires sequentially bludgeon whatever hope i toil to gather. Even the rains seem to pose as harbingers of degradation. Of tears. My single companion, that stood by me as i compelled myself to stay on at IITG, seems on the brink of death. I witness as pretence to development invites natural decay. Yet again, a paradise blooms unto noneity. Doesn’t anyone notice? Doesn’t anyone care?

So i rode. The wind caught my hair, smuggled itself into my jacket, and conspired to lift me off. And i obeyed. Freedom beckoned; seldom can i turn down an intoxicant so strong. I cycled faster than i ever had. And within, i wept. It’s weird, when you hate forcing solitude unto yourself, and yet, confirm to remain that way… So i was free. Unto what? The roads seemed empty. The shadows blank. The lights were dim, and there was no scent to follow. I’d died, and my freedom presented unto me, sheer solitude. Complete hollow.

I was drifting away from the path i’d set out on, and i knew it. The road lay out before me, and still, there were far too many exits i’d ventured into. Laze, and short-sight. My nemeses, stood by me, as i drifted. And drifted… Slowly, i fell back onto the path i’d set out on. But my legs were heavy. And the muscles cramped. And i longed for a hand. Only to remember that i’d set out alone. And that’s the way it’d remain.

Big dreams. Too feeble a dreamer. Too feeble. Cheers.

I know where i’m going. And i know that i’ll never get to where i want to.

Humans, i like to believe, live to exist.

Exist. Full-stop.

Infact, we’re all driven by the simplistic motive to make more of our kind. I know it sounds pitifully boring (and kinda gross), but that’s a fact. Replication of the inherent bio-molecules is the single driving force behind all that we do. (I swear, no more bio from this point on.) Life, as a collective term, seems to baffle me on only this one aspect of itself. I don’t quite seem to grasp what the motive of all this existence is.

But then, i begin to figure.

Life doesn’t need to have any motive.

It’s just there. In much the same way that the universe is. It’s there now, and it doesn’t really matter what i believe that it all conspires to achieve. For all i care, the hypotheses pertaining to the contraction of the universe might be right, and in that case, all that i write now, will ultimately be lost, whence the universe shrinks back to the size of a point.

And this is where it gets interesting.

If there is no motive, there obviously can be no imposed limits on how we go about living our pointless existences, as long as we stick to letting humanity, and life in general, move on. So i guess it’d be quite right to become a drug-addict, marry a like-minded lady, have a bunch-o kids, and die happily ever after. I don’t think i can classify such a thought as incorrect. Then again, it doesn’t quite seem correct either.

So where’s the catch?

There isn’t one. And that’s the fun part…

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We are not unacquainted with the thrill bartered at an examination’s funeral. And the exuberance is almost unparalleled if the emoting object in question is me. Yes, i don’t express much at all [yet, as i like to say, often the purest emotion is one that dwells within the heart, 'çoz expression dilutes the virginity of joy], unless, of course, the expression is borne in the company of a friend.

I’d always been a bad example of a good student. Somehow got the marks, but parents wouldav hated to have their wards follow in my footsteps. Never really studied except for on the last day prior to the exams. Here, in IITG, it meant that, for the first time in my life, i got to experience what a-not-so-well-prepared-pupil experiences.

Yes, my +2 days had seen me ill-prepared too, but those were times when i regretted my inability to work to even a zeroeth of my potential. These days, studies take a back-seat, mainly ‘coz i chose IITG only ‘coz i i had other priorities in life, and slogging pointlessly wasn’t one of them.

It does sound paradoxical, but the truth is that i long for a creative field. Something along the lines of architecture, or maybe even fashion designing. Or teaching – that’s one of my favourites. Yes, teaching is creative. Maybe i’ll write about that someday.

While my longings may present a slightly different picture, the truth is that i chose to come to IIT, even though the opportunity to study architecture at one of the best institutes had presented itself. I’m dying to present my reasons, but i’m sure no one’s gonna die of joblessness even if i don’t.

Aa well…I’m sure it may seem obvious by now that this post is poignantly unstructured, and even more so non-directional! But that’s the fun of it ~ i’ve said sooo much in the past paragraphs about myself, that if someone with a keener eye were to read it, they’d be appalled at how much i’ve written in but a few lines. As a clarification : No, the post is not an expression of regret, of any kind whatsoever.

As i said, this is one of the most insightful posts i’ve ever written. I wonder how many (if any at all) can really read this post.

Read.

That’s one of the most powerful of words.