Just got out of a dream and felt the need to share it. Inside the dream, my eyes visualized a virtual man, lets call him Mr. 'Someone'.
Mr. Someone was a struggler living amidst more bedraggled strugglers. But who isn't a struggler in this filthy meany world. Here's the catch! this Mr. Someone is a different specie, he struggles with fun to achieve comforts. Salute to Mr. Someone...the hostellers
In my dream, I saw myself as that Mr. Someone. It was my last day at college. I somehow did what I haven't managed to do in my 4 yrs of engg...opened eyes at 8 am...thereby shocking my roomie (Mr. Some-other-one). Mr. Some-other-one, a third year chap soon started the work for which he is not meant for; lecturegiri: "bhai aaj tu jaa raha hai, ab mein kiske sahare jeenunga” (cry??)
Something from inside inspired my dreamy avatar (Mr. Someone) to do that special bit of hard work (good morning that is!!). Hostel toilets have never seen queues, nor saw those today. But I was kind of getting sentimental about everything; remember ‘it was the last day’. Dressing in a peculiar way was a habit now, which showed signs of permanentness in me. For the last time I visited my mess, for the last time I had that mess khana, which tasted pathetic as always. But today, I wanted gallons, I wanted quintals…Remember, everything was the last time.
I saw my dreamy avatar taking his luggage from his hostel cage. I saw myself hugging my partner animal, Mr. Some-other-one for the last time. As I was moving out for the last time, nostalgic moments stuck with full force. Juniors tried their best in making of a picture-perfect ‘dhulaniya’ farewell. Some drops were also fallen from our heart through our eyes…
Those last steps for that 500m walk started now. My first step and the pain started (the only time, it had been genuine). My hostel boundary ended and I found myself standing what used to be the ‘fag-point’ earlier. Now another hostel is coming up. Another place for holding up more animals (presumably better for mankind). As I moved my journey forward, I silently passed through teacher’s colony. With that, another set of memories reminisce passed my mind, memories of assignments, memories of scolds and more memories of those threats from HIM. Every class has a HIM, he scolds us, gives ‘F grade’ threats, sometimes harsh comments, he makes our life miserable BUT then he only teaches you the real things and it’s because of him you are passing out as a complete market material. My last salute to him, the last time.
Hostel zone was a past now and my life was going to see a bright future amidst the congested INDIAN IT sector. But presently, I was walking besides our two cricket grounds (ek kehan A, ek kahen B). The latter was our adda, a place where we played cricket, soccer, wrestling and other outdoor sports with someothers, meanwhile the former was meant to be a showpiece. To sleep on A’s green carpet still remained a dream and don’t know when it will accomplish.
Last 100 m and I stood on the road staring at the scar on the left wall of the main campus. It perfectly matched with my scar on my left hand. Both got their respective scars, when I rammed Someone-else’s bike on the main-campus wall. Both scars were permanent (atleast for now). But someday both will meet their fate; one will get healed naturally while other will be painted artificially.
Last 50m, I was standing between the volleyball court (host to the great CVL - Computer Volley League) and the INDIAN bank staring at the fee counter. A pause happened and I smiled…I smiled because of a paradox (rather a monetary injustice – my monthly salary will be higher than what I deposited at this counter for four years).
That’s it, I have entered into a vicious cycle now – a cycle in which I will witness fake smiles of my boss, another group of friends (read social network, since friendship is seldom these days) and GOD knows what all !! Here I am, standing at the bus stand and still remembering those 'gone-in-a-blink’ 4 years of my teenage and still feeling a four point someone (each year getting equal point, no relation to SPIs :P).
(Here comes 507, boarding it…and the dream ends)...
And also ended THE real dream…a dream which was seen by an engg aspirant for getting into a top engg college (please read IIT) and to get lucrative high-pay jobs…
But there is the paradox, now when most of us carry respectable IT jobs, I feel that this dream was just a compulsion and won’t give us the quality of happiness which simple-simple college moments have given. And well, I have a saying in support of my conclusion :-
“Best moments in life come through most simple channels”
what say ;) Cheers