The Ingenuity of any fictional script lies in the spontaneous essence of thoughts. Trying to pour my heart out on a random figment of philosophy wasn’t a bad idea though. However making up my mind and finding some time to jot memorabilia on characters in my universe kept me off the keyboard. Now that I find the solace and mental expenditure to account the monologue, it gives me a mixed feeling. A sort of confusion that is evident in the structure of the aforementioned sentences.
This time a parable appeals to my psyche which I now feel qualifies to be a fable; a fable that was otherwise an unforgettable part of my life. Being born and bred in a traditional family is like growing in an institution which is good on the part of learning discipline in life, but also teaches you to cope with the lack of space. This obnoxious idea comes to me because had it not been for the virtue of my upbringing, the year at university wouldn’t be that special. From a set of closely guarded walls I found myself living in the free-reign wilderness of the University life. A time when there wasn’t a question of being questioned on actions that I did. And yet being humbled with bouts of jolting conscience to do what is right; I can only thank my parents and the extended joint-family to have taught me morals.
Amidst this contrasting conundrum I did find time to indulge in a carefree mode, playing with the new-found freedom in the dormitory.
For the first time I actually had the time to be myself and rule my decisions from dawn till bed. And for goodness I did enjoy that part of life like never before.
It is during such tasteful times at University I made friends from different walks of life. Every child dreams of seeing the world, but God I was fortunate to scale the geography, calculate the maths, register the history, experiment the physics, dilute the chemistry, discover the science, solve the algebra and decode the language from people of different origins – that is the way the child in me saw the world. And all this spectacle was thanks to the University...
Coming to the obvious point of this outing, which I had grown oblivious to – an unforgettable chapter of my life... Studying at University... Thinking of this joyride splashes a reel of moments that made me laugh and contemplate on life. The learning, that friends taught me while I was decoding the untouched part of my personality. To start with being a part of Soul-brothers of Melville, a trio comprising me, Umar and Clement. Despite of having some precious gems called best-friends in India, I see Clement and Umar as a part of genetic symbiont. I can still recall the infamous blunders in the kitchen, be it burning the only food available, or jamming through the night. Whenever I remember the memorabilia, I am famished to relive the experience once again. But boy the beauty of beauty lies in its random occurrence, or else the charm is reduced to being an underplay of mundane sorts. The reason why I recollect those memoirs remains a subject of enlightenment. Remember me talking of going back to childhood, well University life now seems a part of that childhood from my current stand.
I miss Tintu a lot, my proverbial punch-bag, my bubbly friend, my outlet of humorous escapades. Me missing Tintu is an extension of my last encounter with her on the net. Under normal circumstances our interaction revolves around calling names, cornering every statement, mimicking every repartee and climaxing in laughter. And those surreal catfights one can imagine in the early hours of the night. I always counted on Tintu to awake the creative genius in me, even if it meant accepting defeat at war of words. But then it always worked for me to kick-start ideas that’ll counteract her girlie banter. And boy I did took a piss outta her many a times. Am sure she’ll laugh on the prank that I played using the Text-to-Speech function of windows. Imagine what sense of Deja Vu will it give when a voice resembling an IVR announces that you’ve won a thousand pounds in lottery... Lolz and what fun it was to see Tintu falling for the prank. All these enjoyable pranks and catfights were just one free phone call away. That was University; it was a carefree life.
I miss the boon of living without responsibility, yet claiming wonderful moments of smile, contentment and laughter. But this all has changed, post-university Tintu isn’t the same, instead of picking a fight on Yahoo, she talks gyan, instead of mincing nonsense, I find her words sane.
The most clichéd philosophy about the only constant in life being ‘change’ sucks when such indelible moments cease to exist. And the only respite I find is to capture it on the canvas of my blog. As of now, one purpose solved, couple of memories revisited, and a thought thought...
