Showing posts from August, 2013

Supremacy in Titillating the Tongues

Embracing the life at the hostel had its contours of white and grey with the lentil soup (Daal) standing out to be the sole saviour in finishing off the plate full of rice that was a clear reminder of the grim tale of a poignant scene unfolding straight from either a Satyajit Ray or Shyam Benegal’s portrayal of man’s eternal struggle with and for food! The consolation in the form of either the stir fried vegetables, a piece of a pale fish non committal to its fate swimming in the water (curry), a solitary boiled egg doused in yester night’s curry or the finger licking good pieces of rubber that we know as chicken were the sad side dishes following a strict rooster of the hostel’s kitchen committee were to become a staple diet that could put today’s dietitians to shame.
An occasional overture from the Nona’s (cook) kitchen in form of mashed potatoes with its skin being the richest source of protein added intermittent spice to the ritual of meals along with the porridge (served only o…

So, any of you guys smoke or have ever tried your hand with the paper roll?

The mammoth gates of the College were imposing in their silence of having witnessed the rise and fall of many a careers shaping up and shaping out. The ignominy of being a fresher just out of school was nothing compared to the trepidation that lies ahead of the uncertainties for the next few years. However, I started drawing comfort in finding many of the dreary eyed scholars walking around with their application and mark sheet for the admission procedures to begin while the likes of mine were so casual and content, comparing notes in discussing career opportunities for the students in Humanities.
The cacophony in the air was occasionally getting subdued, when the ‘waiting lists’ started coming out for the aspirants to settle down for the second best alternative to their application for preferred subject combinations. It was at this point, that I made friends with some of them who were to become an inseparable part of my college days for I was left with no other option but to be see…

Perpetuity of our creed, by still outnumbering the front runners in their classes.

Let me get back to my school days, the earliest form of benchmark getting set up in measuring success but only according to the glossary of parents, teachers and the neighbours. The marks fetched in the examination were bench marked to the 1st rank holder and the gap spelt either a disaster for quite time or a consolation in form of mild rebuke to inch closer to the glory of being the first boy, in the next examination. The class teachers assumed an altogether different outlook, adjusting their frown, frivolous snide and jeer, an exclusivity reserved for the laggards while reading out the marks and handing out  the papers to get them signed by the parents.
Back home, taking out the test sheet or the progress report card from the satchel was such an agonising affair that it was inevitably accounted for and designed to be being the first act, for the next morning when my father was in a hurry to leave for work and my mother had very little to spice to offer in sprucing up the dismay. …