IIT SOCIALS

The red carpet was rolled, place was cordoned off, momos were brought and the “nerds “were all set to socialize. After all, hadn’t all of us waited for this red letter day since last year? Deep under the poker faces of IITians lies there strong urge to dance, hangout and have fun with the hottest chicks. True, harder a desire is suppressed stronger it becomes and the vigorous IIT preparation and the strict IIT regimen definitely makes everyone a Romeo in their dreams. Lo! All was sent to change…bright halos of intellect, knowledge, wit would melt into pure grace, beauty and charm…an enviable fusion. The socials were of course supposed to be something remarkable.

It was 5’o clock when the last class was over and as we all are champs in 11th hour preparations, we rushed to the hostel. Some rushed to the bathroom to have a bath (socials a strong excuse for doing that) some dabbed in cologne, some trimmed their moustaches and some started googling “pick up lines”.
Finally the damsels descended. We all rushed downstairs. Many admitted later on, they weren’t as thrilled even after clearing JEE. As it is, dreams are always brighter and “fairer” (I make no bones of the general fixation for fair and therefore lovely girls). The music gradually began playing and those who considered themselves good enough started meandering towards the girls. Gradually everybody started sashaying. However the disconnect was ostensible. Somewhere something was missing and we people are after all Indians...I haven’t yet heard of 5 minute love…I am no Jackson and I descended from the dance floor. I went on a stroll and found a sweet girl standing alone. I approached her and we began talking. I was glad I had found someone who didn’t like dancing (is it ok ma’am?)And I was quite confident we would have more similarities. She was very elegant, sophisticated and well nurtured. But somewhere she appeared to be tethered to a totally different mindset which I think is responsible for her sudden mood swings which I discovered later on.
That night the hostel was abuzz. Apart from a few unlucky (or lucky?)ones all had found their “ideal match”.
1 month on...the minors over...the hostel was still abuzz…everyone had a tale to tell. Hardly anyone of us went on a date after that...and I don’t know about a single guy who is still on…it is not Bollywood where the endings are happy; unfortunately it is not even Hollywood. Truly socials as they are aptly called meant only for socializing, a great catalyst for sand castles to be built .Just a word to the freshers...”Remember we are not kings yet, don’t expect the queen so early.”

expectations......

Dishan was a small town boy, brought up in dust laden streets where the tranquility camouflages the obliviousness , where the bankruptcy of the Lehmann bros or Morgan Stanley fails to make into the small talk, where the falling sensex doesn’t mean falling love between couples or where people usually aspire to be doctors engineers or the next Ambani.
Being a very obedient and the only son of his parents he was a pampered brat. Every alternate week meant a 50 rupee note from his mom...to the mom it was a way to prod Dishan to higher attendance, higher marks and of course peace of mind from his constant nagging..But for Dishan it was much more. It was his way to a Ferrari, to more envious glances from his friends and of course it was his means to zoooooooom to fun and frolic.

Dishan started doing well in school...hats off to him and his parents…he completed his homework on time worked hard and he was the topper. He started reading the newspaper when the backbenchers in his classes couldn’t even join letters to form words. Newspapers meant a window to him...it was his foray into the big world…in the world which expands out from the earth to space…world where abject poverty and stinking wealth coexist , where people die for money and where someone called as L.N Mittal invites everyone to his daughter’s wedding with a silver card…of course Dishan wasn’t invited...but in his dreams he thought, I will be the next L.N Mittal….his dreams had now started expanding at a frantically higher pace and he had started to develop a thirst for more...he wanted to work his way out from the maze of his mofussil town and jump into the limelight…his parents though rewarded his good performance in school with more 50 rupee notes but he had started to think more of what a 50 rupee couldnot buy….he knew a 50 rupee note was just not enough in this world…
He convinced his parents to send him to the nearest metro...seeing the glitter and determination in Dilshan’s voice hardly could have anybody relented. The big city lights …the flashy cars …the ultra mod girl friends ..City was just as Dishan expected…amazing to those who are ready to slog , else you perish...however now his desires had become an obsession...he didn’t “dream “ to be in BMWs ...he actually chased BMWs in his bicycle when they surpassed him...hoping he will catch up some day…but Dilshan didn’t fail his parents’ trust in him. He slogged really hard...outshone everybody else in his league...and he got the sweet fruit of hard work. His expectations and reality had converged and he was in ecstasy. But his dreams kept on expanding and his performance did not . After all there are just 24 hours in a day…..however the gulf between the expectations and reality kept on widening…And the ecstasy kept on evaporating...he was getting more frustrated and depressed. He had surely come a long way...but he looked himself as an underperformer….his shoulders were hung low his head was bent in shame..… He had lots of 50 rupee notes in his pocket but hardly did they matter to him. What mattered to him were his dreams , his ambitions and not what the world thought of him...until the world shook under his feet..And his entire hard work crumbled into a rubble...again a 50 rupee note meant a lot for him…again it was his means to happiness and joy...again he was contended with just A 50 RUPEE NOTE......no wonder when I met him in the bus ..He trailed off saying ...”Life is indeed a full circle but of varying radius, my friend”….

aaj ka arjun

Some time back…Rendezvous was on and it had crept into my sub consciousness too…however just as dreams are usually I was in a very elite company….there were arguably the three most illustrious persons of the century with me ….Albert Einstein was there at the entrance doing the frisking of the visitors in Pro Night….his bushy moustache and his glasses both looking quite out of their places…..next I saw Hawking…He was there in his chair…but he was playing the keyboard…his eyelids narrow but the face very grim…the lack of his usual cool caused a certain twitch…and there , I was among the crowd fiddling my buttons...occasionally glancing at the phone ….and then I walked upto the insti …only to find Jackson muttering formulae hysterically…..

The dong of my alarm clock awakened me...Oh! Again I was late for the 8 o clock class….but that entire day the dream was hovering in my mind...and more than once I was transported to my first 2 days in iit…
Just into the hallowed corridors called iit I was a bundle of nerves when the physically diminutive but having a bigger than life stature , the Dean was giving sermons on how iit is the place to have fun with axioms , principles ,curves( no pun intended) and not with toys…..
However the next day in our hot common room in hostel the warden emphasized on how 5 pointers make it to the top league flashing their extra curricular credentials….no wonder I was sure there was a conflict of thought in iit….the debate was on…
Cutting back to the present……..and perhaps quite suitably ..my bsp rep told me when I just accidentally dawdled into his room it was the theme of the next issue of CR……I spontaneously sat down with goose quills to pen down my usual so called arbitaaps…..
The first school of thought I feel just see the first part of the dream that I saw….definitely Einsteins and Hawkings are much more comfortable in the labs and extra curricular activities are a distraction…but if BRCA or BSA is completely shut wont we lose a Jackson or an Usain Bolt drowned in the formulae and unable to prove their real mettle….after all the various clubs are a great way to vent out the steam generated from the heavy workload here….and to be an aaj ka arjun..Is academic prowess just enough?