Sunday, November 4

Revival # 1

Since I frequently tend to go off the blogosphere only to return again, I’ve decided to keep a track of how many times I do it. This way I don’t need a blog every now and then. So officially, this is rev#1.

Have been thinking about altering the colour codes. That’ll create a better balance over the spectrum, and make this blog more of a hotchpotch.

Tuesday, October 9


After a handful of decision-changes, I've finally decided I'm going to write the CAT next year. I arrived at this decision not after pondering long and hard, but by pure instinct. Fine, that sounds fragile. But even when I put instinct aside and analyze this decision with reason, I'm convinced this is what I should do.

Firstly, I'm sick and tired of this place. I had a lot of expectations when I came here two years ago, after clearing JEE. I thought that a JEE insti would be comparable to IIT, and that I'll have a wonderful four years. But those dreams were shattered when I saw the reality, in chronological order:
  • drab location; a culture shock for me, having grown up around the national capital.
  • infrastructure in disarray: playgrounds with bushes growing inside (which have been taken care of, finally), awful roads, many dilapidated buildings (our departmental building is spanking new, thankfully), etc.
  • two people shoved into rooms meant for single occupancy; no space to move, no storage space; used to feel as if we're in a prison (it's only in third year that we've got better, livable rooms)
  • not to mention the frequent power cuts and the round-the-clock voltage problem
  • omnipresence of politics
  • co-currics that lack participation, primarily because they're whimsically organized (mainly politics is involved here)
  • majority of people from villages and small towns of UP and Bihar, so absence of any English speakers; most people look like they study in a paathshaala or something; another culture shock for me... I don't know how I live with these people, let alone connect with them.
  • comatose administration
Basically, if you look at this place, you feel sorry for not having studied harder for JEE. The campus has more of outsiders roaming around, it doesn't compare with the size of IIT's, there isn't even a proper boundary wall. The campus simply merges with the village surrounding it. I'm sick and tired of this place. This is unfair. I want something I deserve. And I want it as soon as possible.

Secondly, I'm sick and tired of being the bottom few of my class. Fine, we're all of the same calibre, but this is just not done. I used to be kind of an enigma back in school. I want that back. Badly.

Thirdly, there is this thing about my love. She wants me to be there among the best. She wants to see me succeed. She says she has faith in me, and that I will do it. I have every reason to honour that faith. And I shall.

Come to think of it, being a petroleum engineer would mean very little job flexibility. Postings in remote areas, odd working hours, et al. And since I will have to settle down someday, I think I'd give myself a better chance at accomplishing that without much pain.

This is it. I'm ready to get going.

Monday, October 8

First Touch

Today is a day I'll remember forever. Though not as monumental as April 11, May 15, or August 13, it is a day to cherish nevertheless. The day when I finally got to touch the love of my life, albeit through a letter. But just touching something she'd touched, kissing something she'd kissed, was such a wonderful sensation that it cannot be matched by anything that has happened in my life thus far.

During the lunch interval, I had planned to go outside the campus for a recharge. While on the insti main road, I saw a friend walking with a letter (a speed post, I think) in his hand. So the post office was open (quite interesting to note that after two years in this place, I still don't know the post office timings), and it was about time the letter arrived. I decided to check, hoping that the postal department hadn't screwed up this time as well (her first letter got lost in transit).

At the counter, I asked if any speed post had arrived by my name. He asked, confirmed rather, if it was a hostel mail, and also what kind of mail it was. Envelope, I said, and he began sifting through the stack. As he dismissed mail after mail, my impatience grew. I prayed to God that it be there, but it simply didn't turn up. I was almost resigned to fate when the last few were left. Zilch. And as he looked at the last one, he said "nahin aaya", before looking at it again, and exclaiming "haan aya hai". I can't exactly describe what I felt at that moment. perhaps it was a mix of euphoria and relief. And when I finally touched the envelope, I could resist blushing. This was it. Her handwriting was beautiful, as beautiful as her. I couldn't wait to open it.

Finding a bit of privacy, I turned on Yanni's First Touch. She'd sealed the envelope with cellotape. I peeled it off slowly and gently, as if she'd hurt if the tape peeled off the paper's outer layer (which happens all the time). I stuck the tape on the back of the envelope, not wanting to throw away any part of her first mail. The card was beautiful. As if it was meant for us. I knew what was written inside the card was exactly what she wanted to say.

The first thing I did with the letter was to touch it with my fingertips, as if I could reach out to her. And I did. I really felt I did. The text hardly mattered, the feelings it conveyed were loud and clear. A line in the latter part of the letter made me laugh, and immediately, I felt overcome with emotions, and cried out while laughing. I never knew that could happen. Such is the power of love, that it can make you cry when you laugh. I took my tears on my fingertips, and put it on the letter. As if to mark it forever with my love. Forever.

This is something we'll look back upon later in life, and we'll always smile when we do so, remembering our first touch.

9217: 21

As Dr. Pal, one of our two math profs, called out my admission number, I didn't know what to expect. Though I had written well in his paper, the fact that I'd flunked my math midsems in the second and fourth semesters (in third semester I was down with jaundice, so it was an auto-flunk) had made me paranoid. In the part taught by the other prof, I'd scored a marvelous 8 out of 30. Wow.

But when he read out my marks (you guessed it, 21 out of 30), I didn't heave a sigh of relief. I knew all this while that I'd notch up a decent score in his portion. Though it did dawn on me that it was my best performance in a math midsem, I knew that this was nothing now. I need to break 8 this semester, and for that I simply must score an 8 in math as well. And 29 on 60 in midsem (which is 30% of total weightage) didn't make the situation any brighter.

But in retrospective, it was a good performance, considering my physical condition on the eve of the math exam. Sleep deprivation had literally screwed me, and even keeping awake was a challenge in itself. I was forced to make do with periodic short naps. Earlier, such a situation would've led to me flunking the exam. But times are different now.

Saturday, October 6

Furnace and Fuel

Give me a push when I fall behind,
Give me strength when I'm weak,
Give me light when it's all dark,
Give me colour when it's bleak.

These lines were written this afternoon for the one person who, despite being so far away, has become a part of my existence. The one who has seen my soul naked, who has seen those layers of my psychology that nobody has ever known. The one, the only one, who has been able to understand me, fully and completely. The one for whom my heart beats, and whose heart beats for me. The one with whom I can afford to be as I am, what I am, without any facades, without any inhibitions.

She has been my strength in difficult times. I'll never forget that night before my Thermo exam. For some reason, I just couldn't sleep. The closer dawn came, the more I was scared. Scared that my exam won't go well if I don't sleep. At 4 am, I sms-ed her, not knowing what to do. To my surprise, she called back immediately. She comforted me, telling me that nothing would happen if I didn't sleep; that my body knew what to do. She gave me strength, and then, sang me a lullaby. Tears rushed down my cheeks as I listened to it. As I write this, my eyes are misty. It was such an overwhelming feeling to have someone care for you so much. And as it turned out, the exam went smoothly.

Parents are the ones kids turn to when they're in distress. But times passes, and soon the kids grow up, and a stage arrives when the kids become the source of strength for their parents. Unfortunately, this means that we're forced to maintain a facade of well-being even when the reality is different. Thankfully, I have someone beside me. And I have faith in her, that she'll drive me to accomplish feats that I wouldn't have been able to do, not because I was incapable, but because I lacked will-power. She's my strength. My Princess, my furnace and fuel.

Now when I look beside,
I realize I'm not alone,
Now when I look ahead,
My fears, they're all gone.

Submissions, submissions...

Now I shouldn't hate this, but I was supposed to have studied something before the Pujo vacations. I'd even made some headway into Math. But now come these term papers which we have to submit over the next week. Here's what they are about:

Theory and interpretation of gas well testing: in this I have to write almost everything about testing (performance and productivity) of gas wells. The equations, the interpretations, everything.

Smart wells: have no idea what these are about, but have to prepare a submission soon.

????: I think this was something like prevention of corrosion by some cathodic protection or something. Have no clear idea.

The first one will be a long drag. The second one will be all about getting the info, and the third one, well, I think it'll be relatively easy. But add all the three up, and it's a herculean task to be done, considering the emphasis I put on presentation; I can spend hours only making the cover page. But will probably pull it off. Only thing is: how fast can I do it?

I'm going home!

Just six days more! And on the seventh day, I board the train. Yay! Hurray!

There are two reasons I'm dying to go home. Firstly, we've moved in to a new house. A house I have never seen. A house far, far better than Dadu's (Grandpa's) house, where we were staying before. I want to see how Ma-Baba have placed stuff, and I want to see my room. My new room. Not that I ever had an old one in the first place. No more of the the old, dilapidated walls. No more seepage. No more having to see my Thakuma (my Grandma who's always mistreated Ma; emotional torture et al) everyday. No more!

Secondly, it's Pujo (Durga-Puja) time. The biggest Bengali festival, stretching over atleast four days. However, since this happens to be the silver jubilee of our Bengali association back in Noida, it'll be celebrated this year over TEN days. Too bad I'll miss the first day of the fun, but the rest nine are mine (hey that's a rhyme... oh God, it's still rhyming :P). Pujo: I think I'll write a separate post on it.

Fine, I confess, there's a third reason as well: trains. I love trains. I've loved them since before I developed cognitive thinking. Dreamt about them, fantasized about them. So I want to ride the train as well. The fastest train in the country, which'll take me me home in about fifteen hours. I love it.

The countdown has begun. I can hardly wait for Friday now.


Since I've given this blog such a colourful name, I'd rather not have the text in the same old black. So from now on, this shall be the colour scheme:

Red: anger/disgust/frustration
Blue: hope/determination
Purple: love
Orange: joy/happiness
Green: the professional mood
Grey: sorrow/despair
Black: miscellaneous

Thus, I intend not to use any labels hereafter. Expect multi-colour posts. :P

The Pact

Once Baba told me, in order to lift my spirits, that sometimes I seem to be going down; things look like they're going out of my hand, and I seem to be lost; but right then, at the time when it's most needed, I pull myself back, and turn the tables.

It's about time now. That's what the pact says.

Friday, September 14

The battle...

This is a running log of my all-day assault on Thermodynamics. It's been hovering around for the past week, and I haven't done much. So here we go...

6.15 am: Started gas compressors; theory.

7.15 am: Yet to make any headway. Played around with my blog. Distractions, distractions. Shit, what am I doing?

7.25 am: Am so hungry I can barely concentrate now. Am going to the mess to eat. God, will I be able to do anything worthwhile today?

9.45 am: Since my last update, all I have accomplished is eating breakfast, emtying my bowels, and surfing youtube. Damn!

Sunday, September 9

Let’s roll

This is how I plan to divide my time during the next five days. Though I've set aside 8 hours for studying, this can be pushed higher if I study in the classroom as well. For that, of course, I'll have to neglect what's being taught. So who's complaining?

However, till date, none of my plans have worked. I always let it slip. But then, I'm not giving up this time. I plan to start out with Thermo today, and hopefully finish it. It's a scoring subject (read: the Prof is generous), and so I must make sure I'm ready with it. The class notes seem to be sufficient, though I might practice a few problems on my own. Next up, I'll pounce upon Math, my Achilles' heel. It almost became my nemesis in the third semester, but not this time. I intend to concentrate on the class notes, which seem to be sufficient for midsems (I'm sorry Princess, but there ain't much time to fall in love with math now… though I have made peace with it).

Well, I haven't planned further, but from then on, it'll have to be a mix of Production, Geology, and Etech. Next weekend will have to be devoted to Etech, I think, and Math. From then on, it should be smooth sailing… which is something I haven't done in a while. I wish to be confident on the eve of the exams. I wish to be content, and not be in a desperate frame of mind. And I know I can do it. And I know somebody else wants me to as well. So who's stopping me now? Only my own will-power, if at all anything.

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