A dream dreamt of....Part 5

There are three kinds of people in Delhi, one who reach by air, one who reach by rail and another who reach by road. The auto fares are proportionate to the means of transport in descending order. And if you are a “Delhi virgin” (first time in the city) you’ll probably end up paying twice the regular fare That’s why it is always advisable to have a smug look on your face and speak in a Punjabi accent, and acting as if you know exactly where you are going. The latter is a bit tough at first because even proper Delhi wallahs don’t know the roads properly and have to recourse to these autowallahs for help. The Delhi auto system is a huge complex machinery based on deception, a racket that runs almost at a hundred percent profit margin.
Rachit and I both took an auto, though separate ones and both ended up paying a hundred and fifty rupees more than the regular rate. But we were least bothered about money then, the thought of joining university was so much more engrossing. I had seen Delhi University’s North Campus only once and that was when I came down from Calcutta to see my prospective college.

Delhi University is a beautiful place, picturesque and tranquil. The roads were clean, and the greenery was lush, with bougainvilleas adorning every street corner, oak trees and eucalyptus hanging towards the road creating a soft blanket with its leaves over one’s head, and the sunlight filtered in through it. The University Campus is a sanctuary for birds, one can always see flocks of doves flying from one college campus to another. And the college building stood like guardians in the campus, old and wise, all knowing but not all saying, inspirations for many like me.

The North Campus and many other parts of Delhi had recently been connected by a metro network, and this is the only major change that had happened to it for atleast a decade. Otherwise the old world charm was like a musky perfume which caught your nostrils even from a distance away.

The North Campus would be my temporary home for one year, and probably the witness of the best time I’ll ever have in my life.

A dream dreamt of....Part 3

Now, a bit about me. I’m Bengali, born and brought up in Calcutta, sensitive from birth, and practical. I am that sort of guy who likes to tread the middle of the road, like midnight standing on the edge of time, too afraid to place a foot on either side. I like to maintain an equilibrium in everything, which means I hate any kind of excesses. I like reading, playing the guitar and singing. Not a very interesting company, because I don’t crack the best of jokes or reply to something very fast and witty. I am obsessed about the idea of being in love, when it happens, I’ll make it perfect.

Otherwise there is nothing much to know about me, as I mentioned before(something that Charulata wouldn’t believe no matter how much I tried to convince her)






The first friend I made in college was Rachit, not only because we shared the Bong connection but also because we shared the same passion, music. When I started hanging with him I realized that he was the most eloquent person I had ever heard, and also had the best knowledge of history that I had ever seen. He liked the finer things in life, he tried to sniff wine and tell its make and date, but since he was so young and drinking for so little time it didn’t work out everytime. But he had an extensive knowledge of cigars and spirits from all over the world. Also, he took interest in learning up about uncanny subjects which most people wouldn’t bother with, like the Monster of Loch Ness or the Abominable Snowman(the Yeti), secret brotherhoods planning to conquer the world and establish a new world order, the Free Masons, the Vatican Secret Archives, the Doomsday Theory and the emergence of The One(almost every religion mentioned him/her and the Hindus called him Kalki, the tenth avatar of Lord Vishnu). All in all, completely unlike me Rachit was an extremely interesting guy to hang out with, you could learn about so many things you had never even imagined existed before!

And when it came to music, you just had to utter the letter ‘M’ infront of him and he went into a frenzy asking me about the songs I had heard (which I admit got pretty irritating at times). But he was one genuine music lover if I’d ever seen one.

But hanging with Rachit was not possible at all times, firstly because he was so popular, everyone hung with him. And the fact that I didn’t like being overshadowed much also helped, and walking next to Rachit was like walking next to the Empire State Building(not because he was tall, which he was). Also I kind of detested some of his habits, he was a compulsive flirt and tried to get every decent looking girl he’d see in bed. Also at times he turned very strange, from a smiling face you could actually see cold anger burn in his eyes for apparently no reason. He was eccentric, that much I understood, but sometimes he went beyond his limits.

A bus is winding through a desolate highway, it’s high noon, things outside seemed to be steaming in the heat. The bus passes by small dhabas on the sides of the road, it wouldn’t stop there, why should it if some dhaba was paying them five hundred each trip just to bring customers to their dhaba. There’s a boy sitting by the window, and that is the only place he would sit in, he would rather take another bus than travel in a non-window seat. He had to push, shove and even curse at a few people before he finally got what he desired. He is now listening to music, his earphones blocking the sounds emanating from within the bus, children crying, women shouting, men snoring and goats bleating( Yes, there were goats too). His friend who was sitting next to him was staring at the back of the seat before him with a stony eyed concentration. Neeraj and Aniruddha, brothers from different mothers. The scenery outside was fast changing, small shrubs on the side of the road to empty fields, small settlements and mandirs in the middle of nowhere. The wind outside brought dust in but Neeraj didn’t really give a damn, he had his shades on. He couldn’t be least bothered about what was happening around him as long as he had the wind in his face and the music in his ears Aniruddha on the other hand was getting royally bored, he wasn’t much of a conversationist, so he couldn’t strike up a conversation with some of the other passengers, and he had realized long time back that there were no good looking girls on the bus, so now he was trying to be friends with the back of the seat.

“Hello”, he said in his mind.
“Hi”, whispered the seat, “Don’t let anyone hear me”
“I promise I won’t”
“You are beautiful”, he said
“So are you, very pretty”

Aniruddha kept his promise, and told noone. Neeraj gave him some odd stares when he saw him eating up the seat with his eyes but that was it.

A dream dreamt of....Part 2

One girl with the prettiest green eyes I had ever seen was sitting in a middle bench, trying to grasp the conversation going on around her, everyone was trying to speak at the same time, and the resultant noise was like disturbed radio frequency. She turned her head often to listen to the speaker. One would imagine that any normal person would be confused, flabbergasted or even mindfucked in the midst of this chaos. But she kept her natural temperament of being graceful in the most mundane of circumstances. This is the girl I fell in love with, and this is the girl that almost killed me, but never even once lessening my love for her.

The friendly boy had a friend, I now realized, he was keeping quiet, but from his face it was obvious he wanted to take part in the conversation, it was obvious that he was being overshadowed by his counterpart, and this was probably causing him some ego deflation. I got to know him later, Aniruddha his name was. The seniors came, to make a fool out of the freshers, but like every other year they made huge ass fools of themselves and left feeling elated at the thought of making a couple of first years dance.







Rachit- The first year who didn’t take the flower.

Rachit was Bengali, well brought up, cultured, well mannered and intellectual. He liked to stray off the beaten track, never once doing the same thing he had done before. He liked to take chances and risk everything he had. He liked poetry, music and literature and abhorred people who didn’t take interest in any of these. He was tall, fair and “cute”, as most girls would like to believe. An idealistic lover of sorts, he liked to be with many women, and gave each one (an almost utter impossible task) his undivided love. How he did what he did and why never ceased to amaze his friends.

On the other side, Rachit was given to intoxication and the occult . He was evil, he knew it, and he prided himself in it. He was a king in his own right, an impulsive child even in his adulthood, and liked the whole world to listen to him while he was speaking.

For the better part, he was a fool.

But Rachit, for some reason or the other had some animal magnetism that naturally drew people to him, he didn’t need to work for it, and thus he grew complacent. He was an enigma, as suggested by many of his friends, a good poet, a good singer, and a good lover.

Rachit wasn’t romantic, neither was he practical. He just loved himself more than anything else. He would have long married himself if it was feasible, but for the time being he had to make do with kissing the mirror.

All these being said about him, he was emotional, sensitive and caring. He couldn’t stand to see others in pain, maybe because he had suffered too much of it. He was almost one with nature, a bright sunny day or the sun’s golden yellow on the green of leaves made his heart melt. He would stare for hours at the sky, either at night or in the day. He would talk to trees, he would listen to birds sing, or fly in clusters. He reflected on the pattern of their flight, and wondered where they went, or probably why one or two birds were falling back. Infact he was so in tune with nature, he could actually tell the future by just looking around him, for signs. He felt that the earth was one whole power box of energy, and everything on the planet was a part of that energy and thus each object was linked to the other. So, the future was linked to the present, present to the past and vice versa. Anyway, I never much understood what he said, but he is probably the only one I have ever seen crying after listening to a song (The man who sold the world by David Bowie). I asked him later, he said that there was nothing wrong; no one had said or done anything to upset him, it was just that the song reminded him of something he’s been dreaming about all his life.

Rachit’s parents were concerned about his son’s activities and school of thoughts, which they thought were too independent and iconoclastic, but they were only aware of half of Rachit’s eccentricities.

Charulata or Charming Charulata from Chandigarh(CCC) as she was better known in her college days was the girl who took my breath away with her sparkling ocean green eyes. Her skin was the purest white tinged with pink, and her hair was light brown with soft curls at the end.

Charulata was very aware of the fact that she was from a small town, now living in a big city like Delhi. She tried to fit in, and it wasn’t a problem at all, people wanted her company, her attention. So she got to choose. And she adapted very fast.

Now Charulata amongst all the characters I am going to mention was the most curious and mysterious of all.

Charulata practiced black magic, and noone knew about it except for Rachit. That too because he was interested in the Occult and he told me. He said he had got signs and vibes from her, that led him to believe that.

Well black magic was one thing, we were all going to delve in, but that’s for later.

Charulata was not at all as kind and generous as she seemed. I felt there was a monster hiding behind that beautiful face, prepared to eat up anything that came in her way. And her way was straight up to the top. She knew what she wanted to do, while we were still reveling in the thought of having finished school and entered university.

She was caring only when she wanted to be and only with people of her choice, otherwise she won the “bitch of the century” award hands down. There was something probably troubling her, but I will never know. Or would I?

A dream dreamt of... Part 1

It was the first day of college, for many it was just a return to a purgatory they never imagined to live out of, and for others it was a first step into adulthood. TV channels and newspapers were cashing in on the event, with live TV crews infront of every college, newspapermen with flowers in their hands and the respective newspapers, infact harassing the freshers more than their seniors would on this day of metamorphosis.

We are watching one particular college, the second best in the city. One boy walks in, refuses to stand infront of the TV cameras denying his 15 seconds of fame, refuses to take the newspaper and hence was not handed a rose like everyone else, silly boy.

Hundreds of other people walk in, get their roses their 15 seconds of fame each. Now the driveway to the front porch of the college is lying strewn with roses, some trampled upon.

The boy goes up to his designated room, finds a class full of unknown faces (as if he didn’t know any better), sits down in the front and tries to act sleepy and bored of all this excitement. Everyone else around him was buzzing, faces were lit, friendships were being forged, people were being judged on their dresses and their grammar (but of course only in the mind). Noone spoke to him, and neither did he bother to.

Another boy, had walked in through the same front gate delivered his 15 second speech to the entire nation received his roses and had dutifully littered the college grounds by throwing it on the driveway. He was now socializing, getting to know people, his friendly demeanor got him along well with everyone, and on that day itself it was decided that he would be socially “accepted”.