It has been months since I went back to my engineering days and remembered anything from there. Abeer, though, has an awesome post on ONE of the MANY incidents and activities that have taken place on the other side of ‘the gap of Mankhud’. Albeit, this was after I left the engineering clan and shifted to a humble graduation in commerce. This is a post I had written when I was surrounded by the memories of Nerul and I personally love this piece for its sheer honesty and expression. And there are these conversations that keep comeing back to me like sunlight through rainy days. I really want to post this one with Abeer. It probably has faded through his memory but it was a turning point in my life and I bloody well remember it.
DISCLAIMER: the words are close to what they actually were, though modified to make its reading more… erm… reader-friendly?, if I may say so myself. Plus, I had written this some six months back, and it just reflects the fact that I will never regret the decision I had taken then.
Revert
I stubbed the cigarette and gave out the last puff of smoke high above my head only to blur out the bright, shiny moon. The air was crisp, motionless and even unforgiving cold. The guitars of David Gilmore cried softly in the background. The solo of “comfortably numb” had reached the part I loved most when Abeer’s voice broke through annoyingly. “The bugger can really play man!” he said with a tone that even priests could swear was something they never heard of a true devotee.
“Ya, you bet, he’s a god”
“Are you through with your assignment work?”
“No, got a little frustrated with repeating the same drab over and over again, just came out for a smoke. How about you?”
“Almost done. I should get through with it by four in the morning.”
“Its already 2:15 pal, you’re quite fast I must say.”
“No my dear, you’re slow! What is it with you anyway man? You seem to be all annoyed a lot more than usual, why?”
My roommates and I shared a strange relationship. We never spoke to each other about our personal lives. Some times we made it seem as if we had nothing to talk about besides our daily routine. But within ourselves we knew we all had a story. Not necessarily dark and unpleasant but still something that was not suitable to share – at least that’s what I would like to believe. But still, it was not true that we did not care about one another. The four of us made a good team. A perfect example of spaced out closeness. This probably was one of the most rare moments when someone bothered to ask why the other was not upto his optimum. Most of the times it was left unnoticed and sometimes even the person were left undisturbed but no helping hands offered to the drowning… never… until now.
“Tell me this, why did you choose to be an engineer? What made you pick it up?”
“Oh for F$#% sake, don’t even start with this…”
“No tell me, why an engineer…?”
“Frankly, I don’t know. I took it up because I had to. It was providence if you will”
“Humm. I want to go back. I don’t feel this is anywhere close to my future. Not the one that I picture at least”
“Dude, I think you need some sleep, you’ve gone mad!”
“No, I’m serious, I don’t feel at home, it’s so uncomfortable”
Abeer had this weird question mark on his face. It did not make him look lost, just surprised. He could relate to what I was saying but he just wanted a clarification before he jumped up and gave me a lecture about not being a quitter, or so I was expecting him to do.
He spoke with a calm voice but a mellowed feeling of anguish in it. “You cant just quit, its two years, its just a bit too deep into the quicksand for you to pull yourself out now man… do you realize the consequences?”
I waited for him to finish and even after he had finished. I had never heard him speak that way ever. It took me a while to digest the beauty of the concern before I replied. “What’s the worst case Garg? I lose two years, that’s all, right? And of coarse a lot of money but what am I gaining here? You can see me struggle, can’t you? You know the kind of marks I am getting. My term papers to be rewritten are way more then the number of subjects that are there in the term. I chose a path, I failed, and I want to turn around. Can I not?”
“Man, these decisions can not be made over a cigarette and some music in a night. Take a few days off and see how you are going to direction your life… correction, redirection your life. It’s a tough one but if you pull through this phase and actually get out of the muck, I’ll respect you for your courage. It takes real balls to do this and it wont be easy on your parents either.” he patted my shoulder as a soldier would when he bid farewell to a fellow who’s going home for a vacation and he, going on the line to fight the unyielding enemy.
I could see him from the balcony. His head buried in the piles of papers and graphs and files and lots of black words scribbled on the white papers. Words that made sense neither to the person who wrote them nor to the many who copied them as they were. I then turned to my pile of similar words and resented each sheet that fluttered in the coldness. I felt lost, distressed and maybe even misguided. This was not for me. This was not my war. I was in the wrong frame. It grew stronger, the feeling of damnation and horrific guilt. I wanted to run, to move faster then the death of my future that was following me. It was gaining on me and I had to divert. For a while I saw no other option but to leave two years and all the mistakes committed in the two years behind me; start afresh.
Then it hit me like a brick. I realized I was not the only one involved in this kind of a decision-making. I had a predicament called parents and an impediment called family. I had to go through a rigorous test of patience and understanding and at the same time enhance the power of explanation, for the task at hand was one that was going to strain the very fabric of my skill to justify my action. I had to be patient if I had to bring this through. And I was, somehow, ready for it.
A strange rebuke also shouted itself out in my head. I kept hearing words like “coward” and “loser” ad infinitum. The voice tried to psych me out and it succeeded but only momentarily. I knew it was wisdom and not cowardice to stop following dogma and to pursue dreams. I was not clear of what my dream was but I knew I would find it out in a matter of a few days. First things first, the nuke had to be dropped at home.
Abeer’s lights went off and his pile was cleared. Mine still repulsed me. I stared at the empty streets and saw nothingness at its very best. The riot in my mind grew dimmer and the sky that hung above me grew brighter. The sun broke the string of thoughts and the alarm in my cell phone cried out loud as if it wanted to do its job of waking me up and then go back to sleep after doing its job. I had a submission that day… I did not go, was “sick”, you know!
DISCLAIMER: the words are close to what they actually were, though modified to make its reading more… erm… reader-friendly?, if I may say so myself. Plus, I had written this some six months back, and it just reflects the fact that I will never regret the decision I had taken then.
Revert
I stubbed the cigarette and gave out the last puff of smoke high above my head only to blur out the bright, shiny moon. The air was crisp, motionless and even unforgiving cold. The guitars of David Gilmore cried softly in the background. The solo of “comfortably numb” had reached the part I loved most when Abeer’s voice broke through annoyingly. “The bugger can really play man!” he said with a tone that even priests could swear was something they never heard of a true devotee.
“Ya, you bet, he’s a god”
“Are you through with your assignment work?”
“No, got a little frustrated with repeating the same drab over and over again, just came out for a smoke. How about you?”
“Almost done. I should get through with it by four in the morning.”
“Its already 2:15 pal, you’re quite fast I must say.”
“No my dear, you’re slow! What is it with you anyway man? You seem to be all annoyed a lot more than usual, why?”
My roommates and I shared a strange relationship. We never spoke to each other about our personal lives. Some times we made it seem as if we had nothing to talk about besides our daily routine. But within ourselves we knew we all had a story. Not necessarily dark and unpleasant but still something that was not suitable to share – at least that’s what I would like to believe. But still, it was not true that we did not care about one another. The four of us made a good team. A perfect example of spaced out closeness. This probably was one of the most rare moments when someone bothered to ask why the other was not upto his optimum. Most of the times it was left unnoticed and sometimes even the person were left undisturbed but no helping hands offered to the drowning… never… until now.
“Tell me this, why did you choose to be an engineer? What made you pick it up?”
“Oh for F$#% sake, don’t even start with this…”
“No tell me, why an engineer…?”
“Frankly, I don’t know. I took it up because I had to. It was providence if you will”
“Humm. I want to go back. I don’t feel this is anywhere close to my future. Not the one that I picture at least”
“Dude, I think you need some sleep, you’ve gone mad!”
“No, I’m serious, I don’t feel at home, it’s so uncomfortable”
Abeer had this weird question mark on his face. It did not make him look lost, just surprised. He could relate to what I was saying but he just wanted a clarification before he jumped up and gave me a lecture about not being a quitter, or so I was expecting him to do.
He spoke with a calm voice but a mellowed feeling of anguish in it. “You cant just quit, its two years, its just a bit too deep into the quicksand for you to pull yourself out now man… do you realize the consequences?”
I waited for him to finish and even after he had finished. I had never heard him speak that way ever. It took me a while to digest the beauty of the concern before I replied. “What’s the worst case Garg? I lose two years, that’s all, right? And of coarse a lot of money but what am I gaining here? You can see me struggle, can’t you? You know the kind of marks I am getting. My term papers to be rewritten are way more then the number of subjects that are there in the term. I chose a path, I failed, and I want to turn around. Can I not?”
“Man, these decisions can not be made over a cigarette and some music in a night. Take a few days off and see how you are going to direction your life… correction, redirection your life. It’s a tough one but if you pull through this phase and actually get out of the muck, I’ll respect you for your courage. It takes real balls to do this and it wont be easy on your parents either.” he patted my shoulder as a soldier would when he bid farewell to a fellow who’s going home for a vacation and he, going on the line to fight the unyielding enemy.
I could see him from the balcony. His head buried in the piles of papers and graphs and files and lots of black words scribbled on the white papers. Words that made sense neither to the person who wrote them nor to the many who copied them as they were. I then turned to my pile of similar words and resented each sheet that fluttered in the coldness. I felt lost, distressed and maybe even misguided. This was not for me. This was not my war. I was in the wrong frame. It grew stronger, the feeling of damnation and horrific guilt. I wanted to run, to move faster then the death of my future that was following me. It was gaining on me and I had to divert. For a while I saw no other option but to leave two years and all the mistakes committed in the two years behind me; start afresh.
Then it hit me like a brick. I realized I was not the only one involved in this kind of a decision-making. I had a predicament called parents and an impediment called family. I had to go through a rigorous test of patience and understanding and at the same time enhance the power of explanation, for the task at hand was one that was going to strain the very fabric of my skill to justify my action. I had to be patient if I had to bring this through. And I was, somehow, ready for it.
A strange rebuke also shouted itself out in my head. I kept hearing words like “coward” and “loser” ad infinitum. The voice tried to psych me out and it succeeded but only momentarily. I knew it was wisdom and not cowardice to stop following dogma and to pursue dreams. I was not clear of what my dream was but I knew I would find it out in a matter of a few days. First things first, the nuke had to be dropped at home.
Abeer’s lights went off and his pile was cleared. Mine still repulsed me. I stared at the empty streets and saw nothingness at its very best. The riot in my mind grew dimmer and the sky that hung above me grew brighter. The sun broke the string of thoughts and the alarm in my cell phone cried out loud as if it wanted to do its job of waking me up and then go back to sleep after doing its job. I had a submission that day… I did not go, was “sick”, you know!
4 comments:
Strangely enough, I don't remember even 1% of this conversation. Zilch. Maybe I had 2 more years of living in the madness to cloud my memory. But as I read your post, I can't help but wonder... Why oh why didn't you convince my parents too. As luck has it, 'the unyielding enemy' has still not budged from his position.
Even having completed the damn thing.... I still wonder (as I did every fucking day for the last 5 years) "But WHY?"
That fact that I'm out of the chakravyuh hasn't quite sunk in....
but since we're digging up old memories...
from the chronicles of Lol - 8/12/01
Analysis of the study patterns of Rakshit Doshi, observed over the average 2 hour period
30 minutes - Organising desk, rearranging stationery, settling papers, etc.
20 minutes - Wandering around the house, cuppa in hand
40 minutes - 'Personal Time' (I will say no more)
30 minutes - talking on phone
(eating is of course a continuous process, to be followed at all hours when the subject is not actually dead asleep)
belew you me, quitting was the smartest thing you ever did.
abeer: i knew you wudnt rembr any of this, it was a quick convo in the parimal balcony and u actually disregarded the idea thinking i was drunk. anyway, i wish i cud pull all of u guys out with me but u were to be B.E. so be B.E. hahaha.
Lol: that is the most acurate analysis of my avg day. u wont beleive it is the same Ooshi if u see me now. (the eating bit still remains though :p)
hmm... 'cheersh' really seems to be catching on. :) Yes you can thank me for that one. Cheersh.
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