The Month(And A Half) That Was...

There is a certain way in which I lust after things- Randomness, Shampoo, Nike shorts, Simon and Garfunkel and Economics, among others. Well, a month and a half into an undergraduate course in Economics in the best Economics department in the country (barring a certain St. Stephen’s College, New Delhi), as a student of the most prestigious college in India- Presidency College, Calcutta, I’m clueless. I am doing what I wanted to do for my under-grad course, but I’m yet to figure out the course content, and which professor is entrusted the responsibility to explain which discipline of economics to us. New York Times had described Steven D. Levitt(author of the overwhelmingly flabbergastingly delicious book ‘Freakonomics’) as a representative of “something that everyone thinks they will be when they go to grad school with Economics, but eventually they have the creative spark bored out of them by endless math”. That is exactly what is being inflicted upon me. Endless Math. Something I never was too fond of. Something I never recognized as part of Economics.

Yet there is something else that is keeping the myselfness alive in me. I’m meeting a lot of people- People from an eclectic range of societies- people from the suburbs, from the city proper, people from other states, friends of friends, people separated by varying degrees of separation- usually between three and five. The company or the momentary presence of some such people have also led to some of the most bizarre experiences of my life in these one and a half months- I was introduced to an adventurous shuttle cock, leered at a couple who were making out in the row behind me during ‘Harry Potter-6’, displayed my Bhashan-dance skills to the world while watching ‘Love Aaj Kal’ with eighteen friends, met seniors that slap their juniors when their girl friends get offended for having been captured in a photograph by the junior’s friend, befriended a girl that thinks every guy is a bisexual, got told off by a professor for having attended only sixty lectures out of a hundred, and received my school farewell diary back from a friend, eight months after school ended, and fell in love with the roof of a friend’s home. Oh yes, I’ve also been introduced to two absolutely lovely girls from a different college, who are exactly on the same mental plane as I. One recommended Wong Kar-wai to me, the other is a proficient user of the term ‘Gandu’.

I’ve been bidding goodbyes to lots of friends that are leaving the city and the country, one by one, to pursue higher education. Well, however Stoic I might be now, however much I might proclaim that I’ve learned not to hold on anymore, to let go easily, there is always a lump in the throat, always a bitter pang somewhere every time someone goes off. Well, yes, I accept the inevitable with much greater ease than before. It’s equally amazing how like a packet of cards being reshuffled ,my old friends from several sources are coming together as each others’ friends in different parts of the country.
New friends- College hasn’t been particularly disappointing in that regard. Though I’d consider only some four of five people from college to be really close to me, there are several others with whom I’ve come to share a good rapport.

A few days back, on the sixty second anniversary of India’s Independence, while surfing channels on the television, I happened to come across a show about how badly the weak monsoon this year has affected the poor farmers in Bihar and Uttar Pradesh, and how they have to go without food for long. The next channel was interviewing a child of fourteen about what his favorite gadgets are, and why he would prefer a PS-3 over an iPhone. The very same day, within the difference of an hour, I came across another show where a man in his thirties, with a proud ‘Hindu’ tilak on his head, was explaining why the Delhi High Court’s reading down of Article -377 is against the Indian Culture, how homosexuality is a choice people make, how the Western society is responsible for the society going gradually gay. He also spoke about how Maharashtra is the singular example of nationalist-sentiments in today’s Ungrateful New India, and why Biharis aren’t welcome in Mumbai. He also spoke vehemently against Bengalis, who he said are hypocrites and the proficiency they depict in being Bilinguals, in juggling Bengali and English with equal panache is mostly fake. Well no one could persuade this man to speak in Hindi, though his English made Rakhi Sawant sound eloquent.

Speaking of Rakhi Sawant, this last month saw her choose Elesh Parujanwala as her life partner. Here’s wishing the lady all the happiness that there is.My photography skills have also been receiving immense praise. I have also fallen in love with an odd assortment of things –like Feist’s ‘We’re All In The Dance’, my Black Reebok shirt, Wong Kar-wai and the Kaminey-characters. I’ve developed a crush on a girl who, I think, knows of my existence but isn’t too greatly enthusiastic about knowing me. I love the way she dresses. Yes, and I hate girls with chubby babies or Katrina Kaif or teddie bears, and guys with Cristiano Ronaldo or nameless muscular dumb studs or some Hindi 'teenage' soap guy with an irritating smile as their dps. I also feel Lola Kutty and Semi Girebaal have a lot in common, though this realization has been there in me for the last four years. I have also fallen in love with unknown people’s hairstyles and hope to be successful in aping them soon. I discovered Mayukh Bose is a brilliant Usain Boltism inventor, helped in the development of a relationship between sparrows and pizzas. A short synopsis of a very eventful month and a half is what this thing was.