The one with the maroon lampposts

I apologise for an earlier post where I said there was no way that the development work for the Commonwealth Youth Games would be completed as scheduled. As it turned out it did happen as per schedule, and now the road outside my hostel is a smooth, wide 4-laner. Sweet!

What’s even better is that they’ve put up new lampposts and benches on the pavement. These aren’t your run-of-the-mill silver lampposts, or flat benches. No sir, the lamps have pseudo-wrought metalwork, and the benches have curved metal armrests. Also, this road is filled with Central Govt. establishments, whose compound walls have all been painted brick-red very recently. Plus it’s a very green part of the city and not too many people live here. The result is a road that's so much easier on the eyes. I daresay it even looks faintly colonial. However, the lampposts have been painted maroon and that just looks wrong.

It’s fun to sit on one of these benches and watch traffic whizz by, watch the sun set, the sky slowly fade to darkness, feel the chill of the evening creep up on you, try to recognise the constellations overhead (I was interested in astronomy while I was in school). Later in the evening, you put on a sweater, fold your arms across your chest to keep your hands warm and keep watching. You see everything, and yet you see nothing. When I’m sitting on a bench and watching is when the loneliness really hits me. I mean, I can totally picture me there with a girl, both of us in warm-ish clothing, my arm over her shoulder, sitting on one of these benches. It kinda makes sense that Valentine’s day is in February. The romance of the past three cold months needs dramatic release, and that’s exactly what happens. (By that logic, there should be another Valentine’s day in August for the Southern hemisphere. Wonder if anybody else has thought of that…)

As far as I’m concerned, winter is most definitely the most romantic season of all. I like the crisp air in my nostrils when I step out in the morning, the clear skies at night, the warm clothing. Mostly the clothing. Personally, I find sport jackets and overcoats sexy, sweaters laidback, and sweatshirts casual without trying too hard. Plus, it never goes below 20°C in Madras, so any kind of cold weather is exotic! (Although technically it can’t be winter when the maximum temperature is around 30°C, can it? That’s what the weather is like in Pune now. Weird.)

There’s something very captivating about the idea of caressing a hot latte in your hands on a cold evening, maybe even making it Irish to deal with the weather. I haven’t been able to shake it out of my head all week (and the milky crap they serve in the canteen doesn’t help matters) It’s been nearly a month since I last went to a coffee shop, and I guess it shows :D And of course, ice cream doesn’t ever taste as good as it does on a cold night. Neither does soup. Mmmm, noodle soup [Note: Friends reference ;) ]…

Really, the only thing that can mess up cold weather for me is the cold virus. And being the virus magnet that I am, I’ve caught my third cold in as many months. You might say I deserve it for my late-night ice cream runs. But I don’t care. Ice cream on a cold night is just too good to pass up!

Cuppa of life

The setting: Cafe Coffee Day on Junglee Maharaj Road. Approximately 8:30 in the evening.

You're sitting at the table by the window.You picked that table because you thought it would be fun to watch the traffic at that time of the day. Unfortunately, that isn't working out too well, since it's dark outside and most of what you see in the window is a reflection of whatever's happening inside the coffee shop.

As you sit there silently cursing the wave theory of light, you suddenly notice that your cycle, standing on the other side of the glass window, is being lit up by the soft lighting from within the coffee shop. You notice just how good your cycle looks from this angle. A wash and a few dabs of touch-up paint, and it'd be worthy of a glossy print ad. You smile and make a mental note to wash your cycle the next day.

Just then, two women in their mid-twenties walk in. They take up the table that's right in front of yours. The cuter looking one's wearing capris. As you slyly check out her calves, your coffee comes in. It looks so very inviting and delicious. The coffee, that is. Although the calves don't look too bad either :D

You inhale, taking in that subtle yet invigorating aroma of cold coffee laced with chocolate sauce. Ahh. You pity all the people who don't drink coffee. Thankfully, you reason, it doesn't include most of your friends. It then hits you just how alone you are right at this moment. Just you and your coffee. With your cycle looking at you indifferently, from outside.

You take a sip of the coffee. It's not nearly as cold as you'd like it. Actually, it's not cold at all. Just slightly below room temperature. And it's not very chocolate-y either.Urgh. You decide you're not going to tip the waiter at all this time.

Ahead, the women are talking about how the not-nearly-as-cute one's going through a break up. Your own failed relationship stares you in the face, almost as if it happened just yesterday. And that reminds of your first coffee at CCD, which you split with your ex. That one was perfect. And not just because she was there with you. It makes you detest the one that's in your hand right now even more. You sigh and push yourself further into the chair. Which doesn't help much, since it's a cane chair and has very little give.

Your eyes drift onto the plasma screen on the opposite wall. They're playing "Soni de nakhre", that utterly ridiculous song from Partner. Govinda's on his back, waving his arms around like a beached octopus. For some reason, there's no sound. You find that, surprisingly, the video's much more palatable without the music.

Your phone buzzes. It's one of your closest friends, telling you how much she liked your latest piece of writing. You smile a contented smile, happy in the knowledge that no matter what, the people who really matter in your life are never far away. And just ahead the women are talking about how it's almost impossible to still remain friends after a break up. It makes your smile that much more smug, since that closest friend in question happens to be your ex.

And it's that moment. That moment with the not-upto-par coffee in your right hand. The phone in your left hand. The women talking about relationships in front. Govinda, Katrina and Salman dancing to no music on the TV. And you cycle still looking at you without any emotion. That moment seems so perfect, you wish you had a Pensieve to capture it and savour it later.

Another atypical evening in the life of ess.

P.S. Okay, I'll admit it's not great writing. But this entry's more about picturisation. It's about evoking mental imagery (and some such crap). So if you didn't like it, it's not my fault. Your imagination doesn't stack up :P

P.P.S. If I tweak it a little, change the description of the coffee to something more positive and make the last line "Another satisfied customer at Cafe Coffee Day", wouldn't this make a great ad? What am I still doing in biology?

Letting go

When I’m in my room, and bored (which is often) I like to sit back and re-read “The Know-it-all”. I’ve mentioned the book in an earlier post too. I like it because no single story in the book goes on for more than two pages. Each piece is part of a larger mosaic, but you can read each entry for its own merit.

It’s probably an inherited thing. Dad likes to re-read “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance”. I tried reading it once, couldn’t get thru it. There is far too much philosophy in there for me to handle. Not in the actual text, but in the implications of what Pirsig says. Guess I’ll have to grow up a little more before I REALLY get what he’s saying. I am a teenager after all. For the next three months, at any rate.

Anyway, the reason I brought up “The Know-it-all” was this piece I read about Petrarch. A. J. Jacobs (the author), talks about what a loser Petrarch must’ve been to be hung up about a woman he never had a chance with, for a very long time (she was already married). He goes on to add that Dante and Byron were also hung up about women who never loved them. And how in the 21st century, those women would’ve got restraining orders slapped on those “stalkers”.

Then, he says it’s not so uncommon and talks about his friend who’s still hung up about his college crush, even though it’s been over 15 years since the guy graduated. Which brings me to the whole point of this post. Why is it so hard for us to let go of something we value, even if we can’t use it, reach it. To let go of something that was never ours to begin with. A false sense of ownership, of belonging. And when we “lose” it, be it a person, position or an inanimate object, it eats you from inside.

The reason I brought it up was that it hit me just how much this sounded like my own relationship with Rags. To be honest, there never was any real romantic love there. It was almost entirely platonic, most of the time anyway. And yet, when we decided that there was no real chance of it working out, it killed me. And I was hung up over it for a pretty long time.

That’s not the only thing that hangs me up. Another major hang-up is the fact that I’m in the college where I am. I may have had a chance of going into another college. But where I am isn’t a bad place at all. Yet in my weakest moments the “what if I’d been elsewhere?” question comes back. I’ve been fighting it for over a year and a half now. Haven’t been entirely successful till date.

Sigh, maybe the fact that there are no worthwhile women around here is really getting to me. I’ve already brought this up with two different people over the weekend. It doesn’t look like these feelings are gonna go away without a fight. Guess New year resolutions aren't so easy to keep after all.

Growing out of the sandbox

Look up, for a moment. From the tiny huddle in the middle of class. From the silly jokes that only 13 year olds can understand. And you see her.

She’s new. You haven’t seen her before in class. There’s something different about her. Something about the way she walks. The way she talks. The way she laughs. Most importantly, the way she looks at you. It’s new. It’s interesting. It feels nice.

All this comes on the back of what has already been a pretty weird year. The girls, as a whole, seem different. You’ve already started wondering if cooties are such a big deal. You’re body’s going through a lot of change. Voice gets deeper but not completely, so it keeps switching from gruff to squeaky. Hair sprouts from unexpected places. And you’re outgrowing your clothes with a vengeance. It’s embarrassing, to say the least. That’s another thing. You’ve discovered a need for privacy, and how easily you can be embarrassed.

And now SHE’S in your life. Not a very big part of your life at first, but you two get talking. The two of you work together on school projects. She smiles a lot. You end up talking with her about a lot of things you never meant to. You try to impress her, with whatever the last 12 years of life have taught you. (It’ll be a long, long time before you find out that she talks about you with her girl-friends. You’re in for many, many more surprises along the way). But it doesn’t really matter. It just feels nice to be around her.

It just grows stronger. You absolutely MUST see her everyday. Every time she misses school ‘cos she’s sick, it leaves you with an empty feeling. You find yourself yearning for moments when the two of you are alone together. Yet, when those moments do come by you’re so tongue-tied, you don’t say anything. Or you make some silly, pointless jokes, which is even worse. Why does it have to be so hard, you wonder. You’ve rehearsed everything in your head, come up with very witty lines, and you’re sure you’ll sweep her off her feet. And yet, when those moments come…nothing.

Salvation comes to you eventually. One fine day, when you think you can’t stand it any longer, her girl-friends corner you. They ask you point-blank if you have a crush on her, because she does. You nod vaguely and stumble out of there. Although by then you’re probably on cloud nine, with stars in your eyes. Yet, it’s not all peachy. One half of you wants to jump around and hug everyone in sight. The other is worried. This is new territory. This is “adult” territory. What do you do?

The next day, you screw your courage, swallow your fears put up a brave face and talk to her. She still smiles, but there’s an anxious look in her eyes. You talk to her about how much you like her, how much she means to you. It’s weird, but all those corny lines you’ve heard about love seem so much more significant now. Finally you tell her you like her. She nods her head. Congratulations! You’re now officially in the very first relationship of your life.

(Look, it's my last Valentine's Day as a teenager. And I haven't got anyone to spend it with. Let me be.)

First one of '08

Well, me hearties, it’s been two weeks into the new year and I’m nowhere near fulfilling those new year resolutions. No. 1 is very clearly taking a beating. No. 2’s going nowhere (well, I actually did ask a girl out, but that was more as a joke. For the record, it fell flat on its face. Quite, quite flat). Finally I don’t really see what I can do about No.3, considering that I got pretty uptight on more than one occasion while I was in Madras. And it would have been most prudent not to, on each of those occasions. I guess that’s just who I am. A serious, stiff stickler who just can’t let go. And, so far, only alcohol seems to help ;-) No, no alcohol since that one time, in case you’re wondering.

I finally got around to watching Anniyan. And this was after I’d seen Sivaji. I gotta say that Vikram’s done a good job. So has Prakashraj, although I think Shankar’s played the vendetta angle a little too strongly. Vivek and Sada were pretty good too, within the limited scope of their roles. On the whole, it’s very typical Shankar fare. He makes only two kinds of movies: sappy romance (Kadhalan, Jeans, Boys) or clichéd crusade (Gentleman, Indian, Mudhalvan) Anniyan and Sivaji are just the latest of the second kind. And every single one of them has a completely unbelievable plot, loads of special effects and CGI. Whatever. It makes for good watching, if you can suspend the rational part of your mind (Which you probably do already, if you watch a lot of Indian movies or soaps)

So, there have been some changes in college. Sorry, research institute. According to one of my profs, this place “..was never meant to be a college in any sense of the word. It’s a research institute where they ALSO teach undergraduate students” And surprisingly, this doesn’t bother any of my classmates. We have no life, barring academics. None of the other colleges in Pune know that we exist. Our course load is worse than that of the IITs (until this semester atleast). And there’s barely any support from the faculty for our extra-curricular activities. Plus, none of the students seem to be taking any initiative. I organised a quiz almost single handedly in November, but that’s about it. Oh, they do come up with grandiose schemes about what can be done, but there’s so much bickering going on that they don’t even come close to any kind of workable concept.

Enough bitching. (BTW, it feels really good to get this stuff off my chest and into cyberspace) The biggest of the changes is the new academic building. It’s not much, three floors of an office block (about 30000 sq.ft. altogether). Plus, the whole place has a very corporate feel to it. Doesn’t feel like a research institute even, come to think of it. The other big change is the reduced coursework. Only 7 compulsory courses, worth 16 credits altogether. So, things aren’t totally hopeless around here.

Here ends my “state of the person” piece. Expect something a little more light hearted next time!