27th September, 2014.
I intended to write this one yesterday, but there are times when an overwhelming flood of sentiments just binds your hands. Your fingers won’t move either on the pages of your diary or the keyboard, so I guess, its okay to be late at times. Anyways, the rant of the psychosociopath –
26th September, 2014.
September ends. I never guessed that September would end so quickly and quietly. If I had to use one of my insensitive and inappropriate metaphors, I’d say it went away like a…umm okay leave the metaphors, let’s just stick to this surreally boring talk (a word of caution, it really would be appalling to your mind, if you want, leave now and watch porn and/or Vennu Malesh videos…).
So, my last two blogs were about the archives, this one is the final entry about it, and maybe the last mention of it here since today was the last class. If I start with what we did after class, it would turn this into a boring novella, so I’ll try my best to make this short and somewhat bearable.
The class ended…it started on the 1st September, and just when I started making friends it came to an abrupt end, with a silly conjecture of things that lies in between of so many things unsaid. Irony abounds when I did made friends out of thin air (either that happened or I was blind), and all of a sudden, the curtain falls. What I intended was that I’d just do my classes and pass unnoticed, which is usually the thing, and I ended up with discussing medieval European history with two fellow history students, the alternate version of biblical stories, the devil’s perdition for giving the first humans the ability of critical thinking, conspiracy between Da Vinci and the church…anything that was interesting. I intended to bury myself in some novels when there was no class and I ended up in smoking gold flake kings with a seriously uber cool girl who is basically the epitome of energy bursts and her “highness” (weed high that is) was really commendable (she stayed sober in class and I really will miss the shared cigarettes we both shared)… there are so many ‘intended’ and so many ‘ended ups’ that I am losing the count for each, and maybe I don’t even want to keep count, it’ll be a sacrilege to the happiness found.
The thing that actually worries me is the fact that there maybe is a chance that after this, we will be again on our ways to damnation and hell, with some touch of happiness in between the journey. And maybe, since world is a small place, we will cross each other somewhere least expected and some old sparks will rekindle (okay maybe I meant memories, but well…) but it will be momentary. We all are busy in making things happen that life runs out. Somebody told me, and I quote, “ zaruri nahin hain. Of course roz milna nahin ho sakta, but kabhi kabhi, surely!”… I just hope she is right.
If somebody ever asks me in future that what was the best thing that I had at the archives? My answer probably would be “another friendship” (I seriously do not have the slightest idea what I mean, but I am sure it will be the answer.)
The class ended with viva exam, the day ended with something else. After the exam ended, the plan was to visit Hauz Khas fort, yet Mother Nature gave her sincere efforts to make the day humid and sweaty, the visit would have killed the mood, instead, we decided to go to the apartments of a friend (Amrita di) at mayur vihar. Indeed there was an initial reluctance, but in contrast to the weather, now I guess it was a fine plan. A small party was the following consequence, with booze and drunken laugh. (I didn’t drink for the record, someone had to stay sober, indeed some cigarettes were not of harm and maybe the last ones, for I don’t know when I would meet someone like her or them again, I tend to smoke with friends.) Some silly drunken talks and meaningless laugh and the finality was the ephemeral promise to be in contact (ephemeral because I know people forget, I know I don’t, but can’t vouch for all, that is stupid, yet I hope).
The evening winds of a late September was kissing the sweat dry in that crowded public transport, and I was in that languid state with a loop of talks and laugh and the smell of burnt tobacco… I woke up with the ever same tone of the driver - “tigri..tigri..tigri.. hain bhaiyaa tigri wale utar jaayen..”… I paid the money to driver, and paid my thanks to the one who may or may not exists for these days and a slight anger for such a short time that ended in such a hurry. I walked for home in the falling night. September ends with a note to remeber... to remeber the september of 2014.
Regards.
I intended to write this one yesterday, but there are times when an overwhelming flood of sentiments just binds your hands. Your fingers won’t move either on the pages of your diary or the keyboard, so I guess, its okay to be late at times. Anyways, the rant of the psychosociopath –
26th September, 2014.
September ends. I never guessed that September would end so quickly and quietly. If I had to use one of my insensitive and inappropriate metaphors, I’d say it went away like a…umm okay leave the metaphors, let’s just stick to this surreally boring talk (a word of caution, it really would be appalling to your mind, if you want, leave now and watch porn and/or Vennu Malesh videos…).
So, my last two blogs were about the archives, this one is the final entry about it, and maybe the last mention of it here since today was the last class. If I start with what we did after class, it would turn this into a boring novella, so I’ll try my best to make this short and somewhat bearable.
The class ended…it started on the 1st September, and just when I started making friends it came to an abrupt end, with a silly conjecture of things that lies in between of so many things unsaid. Irony abounds when I did made friends out of thin air (either that happened or I was blind), and all of a sudden, the curtain falls. What I intended was that I’d just do my classes and pass unnoticed, which is usually the thing, and I ended up with discussing medieval European history with two fellow history students, the alternate version of biblical stories, the devil’s perdition for giving the first humans the ability of critical thinking, conspiracy between Da Vinci and the church…anything that was interesting. I intended to bury myself in some novels when there was no class and I ended up in smoking gold flake kings with a seriously uber cool girl who is basically the epitome of energy bursts and her “highness” (weed high that is) was really commendable (she stayed sober in class and I really will miss the shared cigarettes we both shared)… there are so many ‘intended’ and so many ‘ended ups’ that I am losing the count for each, and maybe I don’t even want to keep count, it’ll be a sacrilege to the happiness found.
The thing that actually worries me is the fact that there maybe is a chance that after this, we will be again on our ways to damnation and hell, with some touch of happiness in between the journey. And maybe, since world is a small place, we will cross each other somewhere least expected and some old sparks will rekindle (okay maybe I meant memories, but well…) but it will be momentary. We all are busy in making things happen that life runs out. Somebody told me, and I quote, “ zaruri nahin hain. Of course roz milna nahin ho sakta, but kabhi kabhi, surely!”… I just hope she is right.
If somebody ever asks me in future that what was the best thing that I had at the archives? My answer probably would be “another friendship” (I seriously do not have the slightest idea what I mean, but I am sure it will be the answer.)
The class ended with viva exam, the day ended with something else. After the exam ended, the plan was to visit Hauz Khas fort, yet Mother Nature gave her sincere efforts to make the day humid and sweaty, the visit would have killed the mood, instead, we decided to go to the apartments of a friend (Amrita di) at mayur vihar. Indeed there was an initial reluctance, but in contrast to the weather, now I guess it was a fine plan. A small party was the following consequence, with booze and drunken laugh. (I didn’t drink for the record, someone had to stay sober, indeed some cigarettes were not of harm and maybe the last ones, for I don’t know when I would meet someone like her or them again, I tend to smoke with friends.) Some silly drunken talks and meaningless laugh and the finality was the ephemeral promise to be in contact (ephemeral because I know people forget, I know I don’t, but can’t vouch for all, that is stupid, yet I hope).
The evening winds of a late September was kissing the sweat dry in that crowded public transport, and I was in that languid state with a loop of talks and laugh and the smell of burnt tobacco… I woke up with the ever same tone of the driver - “tigri..tigri..tigri.. hain bhaiyaa tigri wale utar jaayen..”… I paid the money to driver, and paid my thanks to the one who may or may not exists for these days and a slight anger for such a short time that ended in such a hurry. I walked for home in the falling night. September ends with a note to remeber... to remeber the september of 2014.
Regards.
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