With a sip of tea, and few yawns, unknowingly I came across a folder named “Hostel Dayz” in my lappy.
Few minutes passed by, and then few more minutes.
Yawns gone and tea is frozen.
One by one, I am flipping through the pictures ~ Ist yr, 2nd yr, 3rd yr, and a little incomplete Final yr.
I am already into the past. Envisaging the incidents that once were a part of yesteryear, I am looking onto first of my mini Odyssey.
1300 hrs: 2nd September, 2007 ~ Ashwathamma CMR Boys Hostel, Room No. B-002. “Life starts here.”
Since then, it’s been an eventful journey, a journey worth looking back at.
As we walked through the campus for the first time, all were strangers, but in the world of unfamiliarity, familiar was the term “Friendship”.
26 people got accommodation in Backblock, which later proved to be a paradise in disguise. No warden, beautiful corridors, Nancy ma’am knocking at the window of B-005 once in a while, frequent visitors in the same room(no point listing out the reasons over here! ), TT match in front of B-006, brutal murder of a mice (“cigarette”), “Super 8?, CS, NFSMW, construction works (who is not aware of this!!!!), Maggi at the wee hours, night-outs, melodies of Kishore Kumar Vs Linkin Park, ragging, boycott, cricket matches, 10 pm tea, sunday morning fight for a loaf of bread and jam, and the list goes on…
Gopalan escapades, 2nd yr: Here comes the trouble. 10 madmax, housed together in a spacious 4 BHK duplex. It was a roller coaster ride. Not for nothing is A-304 still famous. The stay at Gopalan is etched with golden memories, memoirs of which are carved, but with an impish smile. Millenium was our supermarket, Oracle was just another building, Aditya Birla was just a passing by scene, swimming pool was always a playground,….It was fun written all over it.
With an impish laugh, I flip through the mad photo sessions. Wide awake at 2 am, applying gel, and using moisturizers, we were always ready for a photo shoot. Making faces, vaulting over cupboards just for a pose, imitating Rajnikant’s style, donning sadhu’s attire, showing off Jockeys and Lee, none had qualms whatsoever.
“Life is but a walking shadow, a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”
Now, while I sit back and revisit those days, a poem from the text book of Std.XI begs for attention. It narrated the wide range of facial smiles to suit your disposition. Some were called party smile, some were named corporate smile, and some were referred as smile to depict smile. In between the smile that has been bestowed upon us during our inception just got lost somewhere.
I now pause and rewind and just a few rewinds later, find how those smiles fit into this world so effortlessly.
But, some have dutifully managed to fit into the smile, which makes me smile. Their owners are my best buddies. You call them Friends, I call them Life.
And through them, a family was made. Phrase “Friends for Life” got a meaning. Brotherhood beyond blood was experienced.