MEMORIES OF SECOND YEAR…..

So you fell in love with the damn place. What can you do? The heart has a strange way of its own! You go back after a two month break and it all seems so beautiful. You get a funny tinkle in you stomach when you get down at the station. The auto walas increased their price again. Then comes the blessed BIT more. The gates of the placed you cursed last time seem like the very gates of paradise and guards like cute angels. You drop off the boys in their hostel. Its five in the morning, the guard is sleeping and you decide to go in. the one and only time you get to go inside H-6 and see those rooms. Double rooms for boys…..about half the size of the single rooms that girls have in h-8. tut tut. Some boys in their towels run for cover at the unexpected sight of a girl.
Happy? Had your fun? Got your kick? Good! Now you head to your own den. The sight of your friends makes you very happy. Oh! How you missed these rascals. Some are coming in form the station and some are gearing up to move to H-9. Ah! You almost forgot…..you gotta change your hostel. Leave the comforts of h-8, the super clean bathrooms and single rooms and move to h-9……it’s what some girls call going to sasuraal while others say it’s moving into the real world.
Well all that registration drama happens and you loose some running around and then gain some hogging in the canteen. The “ get-together-for-another-great-semester” thing. Even that food seems good!
All this love-shmuv lasts a week or so. Honeymoon over! You get back into the grinds. The schedule of everyday life takes over. All the ‘ I’ll learn Spanish this semester’ or ‘I’ll learn to tap-dance’ is replaced by the more realistic ‘I’ll submit my assignment on time……hopefully’.
All things are similar to last time……except……there are some new kids on the block…2K6! You see that just girls ,girls and girls…..that new reservation thing. Few of your friends, the ones in the limelight, have a tough time accepting that the limelight has now shifted……it’s about the kids now. We old guns otta move out and enjoy the show! And its quite a show…..the same courtship games, the same ups and down in the fests, the same hoo-haa about 9 pointers………you see it all. The game is the same….only the faces change. And thank god they do!
Then you get to see that the new chicks are about substance too. They call up GP when you go to rag ‘em! Hells Bells! Oh! How you love ‘em and wish you had that kinda guts………..
Elsewhere a lunatic cooks up the idea of THiNK and lures you in. it’s fun….starting a magazine from scratch. You learn and un-learn a lot of things along the way. You attend meeting where nothing logical is ever discussed and all the real decision are taken over phone. Well all is done and you are waiting to see the first edition sometime soon.
Then your beloved BITotsav ’07 happens. All goes well as long as 2k3 toes the line but how much can a man take? When the goons flex a muscle or two the guys decide they’ve had just about enough. They hand over the keys and say try running the show you old guns! It all falls to pieces when they leave. For the first time it was students against the administration, en mass. Nothing happened and nothing changed but at least they tried. You and all others you know ain’t forgetting Kranti ’07 in a hurry…..

Other things were more or less the same and as the session draws to a close you start cribbing again. You hate the damn place. What with all the rules and regulations…..the in-time, the dull life…..sheesh! You gotta get out and fast…..

Right now you are sitting at home, away from the monster and what is your prime occupation? You visit it’s group on orkut, you check out the forum, you hop and skip on the blog of fellow BITians and right now you are writing about it.

Strange are the ways of the heart…………………

My Buddhi Bahadur Strongest


It began in Dagshai, a small town lost somewhere in the mist of Himanchal Pradesh. We lived in an old lonely house on an old lonely hill. My parents were at work all day long and at parties all night long. The little gaps of time thus created were filled by Buddhi Bahdur. This brings us to the question….Who is Buddhi Bahadur?

He is a resident of Nepal who served in the Indian army for the past 25 years, fought many wars and is finally retiring and going back home. But when he was in Dagshai with us he did a few other things as well. He was our nanny and one hell of a nanny was he!

In the evenings he took us bird hunting. My brother, being elder, got to handle the gun whereas I was assigned the task of spotting and recovering the prey. Later in the evening we used to sit outside the house and roast the birds and eat them semi cooked. Nothing can taste that good!]

He never stopped us from pillow fighting each other to death, from keeping weird pets (hens, chicks, bats, and owls) or anything that made us truly happy. But he was strict about getting dressed for school at time, polished shoes and impeccable uniforms.

I’ve heard he was a fearless soldier and has served in Kashmir for a long time but there is another side to his personality as well. In Dagshai, he used to live in the mortal fear that the alleged ‘Maim ka Bhoot’ will come and get him. So often we would find him at our door at two in the morning, covered in sweat because he had a feeling that the ghost was calling out his name!

He has the tiniest hands and feet and the gentlest tone when speaking. He played all our games, listened to our tearful tales, cured all the boo-boos and sang us to sleep. This same man was an ace shooter, a platoon leader and a meritorious soldier. I salute him and the many roles he played and played so well!