Don't much feel like blogging. Feeling a bout of laziness and Status-Quo-ship for the past few days. I wanted to write about a lot of things, though, including, my trip home to Kumta (Karwar dist., coastal Karnataka), the amazing rains there, quawwalis from the film 'Barasat ki raat.', my new cell phone, my new yoga classes, the picture of my 'Kuladevi' that I have installed ( too presumptuos a word, eh?) at home and why etc. etc.

Just to keep my blog alive I am cut-pasting some Hostel stuff I wrote in college.

The creative writing competitions in college sometimes had topics like: "Write a story which starts with the words so and so and ends with the words this and that." I always found these topics painful and irritating. But I couldnt help but participate. (I simply HAVE to participate in a Creative writing contest. It all started years ago when I entered a complete the story contest featuring 'Cadbury's Gems Bond' ) So I generally squeezed in any story between the two phrases and didnt always do a good job of the squeezing.

The following story is an example of one such squeezing. The story was supposed to start with the words "It was the best of times and it was the worst of times..." and end with the words "...it was love at first sight." Read on!

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It Was The Best of Times

It was the best of times and it was the worst of times. And since I can't possibly write the rest of 'A Tale of Two Cities' here I will tell you the story of a friend of mine who is in the final year. His name is Dilli; rather it's his nickname. He got it, as a freshie, for claiming that New Delhi was also the capital of Uttar Pradesh.

As I was saying, it was the best of times and it was the worst of times. Best for the mosquitoes, and worst for Dilli. It had been raining for two days in Madras and no one including the mosquitoes knew how to react to this new situation. The mosquitoes had gone and multiplied without control, and clouds of them hung about everywhere in Dilli's room, below his table, below his cot, and around his face, fighting for the only part of him which lay unprotected by the shield of two bedsheets that he had pulled over himself. As a result his face was marked with lots of red spots where the mosquitoes had sat down for dinner. One or two determined ones (mosquitoes that is) had even bitten through the bed sheets and munched at his legs, but Dilli was too engrossed in the Tom Clancy novel he was reading to bother too much.

It was still raining heavily outside, and it was getting quite cold. Dilli had shut both the windows and put a bulb in the socket just above his head to heat up the room. The tubelight was also on. A sheet of rough paper and a pen lay on the table. Dilli had been making a list of 'Things to do - URGENT' when he had suddenly decided to drop everything and cozy up with the Tom Dlancy. 1) Buy Mosquitoe repellent 2)Wash clothes 3) E slot term paper 3) S slot presentation 4) MUG for C SLOT QUIZ 5) Get Darsh's notes for C Slot... The list went on some more. A heap of clothes lay on the only chair in the room, hastily moved there to make space on the bed. A bucket with clothes soaked in detergent lay below the cot, a slight odour emanating from them. They had lain there for two days now, the 'washing clothes' having been postponed indefinitely till the rains decided to stop.

There was a knock on the door. Dilli pretended not to hear. Whoever it was would go away thinking Dilli was asleep. Most likely someone had come to borrow his water heater coil. No point letting all the heat out...

The knock persisted. "Hey Dilli wake up da. Movie!"

Dilli jumped to his feet and opened the door.

"What movie?" Dilli had started to rub his eyes, involuantarily keeing up the show that he had been sleeping.

"Lagaan."

"I don't knwo da, its such a long movie." said Dilli reluctantly but he was already getting into his slippers, "I have hazaar work to do. Have to submit a report tomorrow."

They walked to the other end of the wing, moving close to wall to avoid the lashing rain, to Saari's room where a crowd had already gathered. Dilli made space int head of legs and heads on floor and plumped down.

Dilli always liked to come to Saari's room. It was much cleaner than his own room and smelt much better too. Of course you could always say that Saari had to compulsorily keep it clean, because of his comp., but Saari was a systematic guy. You could always see in his room freshly washed and dried clothes dangling from the clothesline, held there by clips, like mutton in a butcher's shop. Saari was the only guy in the wing who washed clothes everyday come rain or sun, and who always wore fresh clothes after a bath. He was the object of envy and ridicule in the wing.

The movie began. Dilli had already seen the movie. Most of the junta in the room had. But while watching a movie with friends no two times are the same. The comments passed, the sounds made, the jokes, the combined "Yeah!" that rents the air when the heroine makes her first appearance...The movie is actually only half the entertainment. As Dilli watched, his admiration for Amir Khan grew and Gracy Singh renewed her claim to the post of Dilli's current favourite movie female star.

The intermission in the movie coincided with the Night Canteen timings and the gumbal trooped into the mess for refreshments. It was much later, after the last of them had ordered and eaten his veg-noodles that the gumbal, equipped with chips and masala groundnuts assembled again for the second session. Our man Dilli, urged them to be quick about it. "I have a report to submit tomorrow da." The movie, however, took its own course, and by the time the last of the fellows from the English cantonment had left Amir Khan's village for good, it was late in the night.

"I see a night-out ahead of me," Dilli cribbed to Sonya, "I have a book review to turn in tomorrow."

"What book are you reviewing?"

"Anything. Tom Clancy's Line of Control, maybe."

"Ballu has a ready review on his comp no?"

"I don't want to cog da."

"Pack da. No one puts enthu anyway. You have read the book. You can write the review anytime, if you want to. Then what's the point of putting fight? Tomorrow A slot is free. Go and get a printout then."



Dilli and his wingmates discovered Final Year four months ago and for all of them it has been Love at first Sight.