Archive for April, 2005

Snack Attack

Sachin the bodybuilder is happy today. His parents have gone over to his sisters place and the house is free. He has generously invited other builders and a famished student to his house for a “cook-yourselves-and-eat” bash.

Sachin: “Hey, we can buy eggs. How many eggs should we buy”
Shiv: “Well there are four of us. So maybe we can buy 5 or 6″
Sachin: ” 5 or 6 ?? HA HA HA HA”
Shiv: “Well, Whats so funny ??”
Sachin:” We will need at least twenty to thirty!!”
Shiv: “THIRTY!! HA HA HA HA HA ”
Sachin: ” I will go and buy the eggs. You guys start chopping vegetables”
Shiv: “THIRTY!! HA HA HA HA HA ”
Others: ” Maybe you can buy some milk so we can make coffee”
Sachin: “Good idea. Will be back in 15 minutes.”
Shiv: “THIRTY!! HA HA HA HA HA ”
Others: ” I think he is losing it. Maybe we should take him to the gym less often.”

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A Sunset

It rarely rains here. But it sure does get a loud cloudy at times.
And one of the things thats really worth watching when it gets cloudy in the campus is the sunset.

The whole place gets so transformed. I am walking down towards my hostel from the lab.
The lights has become noticably dim. There are not many people on the campus on a Friday evening. Once you turn to the road that leads to the hostel along the football field, it becomes somewhat narrow, lined with neem trees. I could see till the end of the road, barren and silent. The sky has now turned into a kind of yellowish orange. The Great Artist has painted long strands of cirrus across the great canvas. The whole atmosphere is reflecting yellow. Those of you who have worked with Adobe Photoshop or similar software will instantly recognise the tone as Sepia.

A small breeze blows caressing the trees and blowing the neatly piled heaps of dead leaves back onto the road. The cracling noise of the dry leaves on the asphalt somehow makes me feel good. I throw my head back to take a deep breath. (Col. John, if you are reading this, I still don’t get the warmth of friendship when I do that.) The silence is only disturbed by the occasional shouts of a few students playing on the field. I pause to watch the game for a few minutes. Most of them are northies. They dont get to go home on weekends. They have to wait for the longer holidays. I catch the nearest one and ask him in my south indian hindi.
“Score kitna hua”.
He looks at me for a moment and answers “Pata nahi. Bas aise hi khel rehe hai.”
I point to the sky “Mausam badiya hai”.
“Hmmm” He replies with a disinteresed look. He must have been irritated with my hindi, or my intrusion into the game (or both). I don’t want to find out. So I keep walking.

I have now crossed the football feild and I am walking towards the students mess. The concrete in the adjacent basket ball court is glowing bright orange. I walk across to the lawn near the hostel and pause to look at the sky one more time. Everything looks like part of a big painting.
I dont know why but I begin to feel happy and peaceful for no particular reason. The Swami has told me that you should always look into nature and observe. I never knew that this has such a profound impact on the soul.

As I begin to walk into the hostel, I notice some people sitting in the balcony and looking at the sky. Almost everybody here are waiting for the rains.
Jagjit Singh keeps playing in my head:

Garaj Baras pyaase dharti par, phir paani de maula
Chi.Diyo.n ko daane, bachcho.n ko gu.D-dhaanii de maulaa

Do aur do kaa jo.D hameshaa.n chaar kahaa.N hotaa hai
Soch samajh vaalo.n ko tho.Dii naadaanii de maulaa

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