"alma mater"
Déjà vu.....,imagining myself working in a coal mine, meagre salary, unobtainable luxury food, the no bed but just a cot arrangement and electricity like the flickering fate...the extreme of hardship i cud ever imagine, the ultimate route to self destruction ....and there goes the alarm...with the roadster tone in the nokia 3110 classic,1 of my many saviours currently..snooze, alarm, snooze..wake up ..”fuck fuck fuck ..its 8.30.. half an hour to oblivion”..gulp some water, put on the filthy coloured fading yellow shirt with more fading blue stripes on it and the mosquito non- repellent obvious blue trousers and definitely the tie(which i cant tie by myself though)..put in 2 to 3 copies (lately....,as previously i used to maintain an universal copy for all subjects which my mom had bought me wen i got admitted to this ‘never going to be a reminiscence alma mater’..now that the copies are over i thought i wud not be so irresponsible and scamper for notes later so bought 6 copies but only 3 are utilised as the teachers don’t seem to utilise their brains much this time)..
Goto class ,get seated and just stare at the blackboard or the projector, the teachers, endure their inept lectures ,just droop till 12..come back to the female jail with some flower shrubs scattered here and there..engulf the bland rice with some pulse and a minute piece of fish ,take a bath in the most filthy sanitation facility ever visualised or rather experienced by me (let me not describe),dress up and again run for the white circular building with stairs everywhere to do a program in java maybe..all this just for attendance primarily which is directly related to my grades and thereby my acquiring a job with a mere maybe 20000 pm..fuck man!..life sucks big time..
My mom said, once in ur life u ll have to suffer from destitution to gain that ultimate happiness..this is like 4 years of cutting my heart and putting the sensory happy part of my brain to coma..too much to compromise and too less to earn..and trust me with the complete dissatisfaction there is this tiny part of my cerebral system which has become prone to psychological disorder frequently..i am bewildered and overwhelmed at my own state sometimes..it hurts and tears are a regular affair now a days..maybe some solace is obtained when i can chat with folks who have actually achieved the authority to mesmerise me often bt its dull again..
I cannot express undue flattery so teachers don’t really know me, not domineering enough to have followers who wud make me feel like i am in some ‘Sex and the City’ storyline,do not feel like portraying my charm for the college ‘dudes’(pun intended definitely) nor do they find me fascinating enough for my snobbery, maybe..(and that is gud for me) as i don’t intend to hook up with these (self made assumption) ‘kewl’ guys..so basically going out every evening, fancy dressed, with nose high up the sky ,can be very well discarded from the possibilities to engage myself with...so its like a plate of fried maggi or dosa or newly discovered momo with my gfs in the evening after coll.
Irony ,city center comprises a dusty road and a under construction building here..so there is no place to take my agitated already dust allergic soul to and it gets dull everyday fading away too soon ..but finally there is home ,so when the a .c bus crosses the Vivekananda setu(2nd Hooghly bridge)and the skyline of Calcutta comes to focus a sigh of relief.. is let out by me ..and then home. sweet home..the paradise for me for the past 3 and a half years making me sometime believe that at least the biggest mistake of my life has made me realise the importance of my home..
Goto class ,get seated and just stare at the blackboard or the projector, the teachers, endure their inept lectures ,just droop till 12..come back to the female jail with some flower shrubs scattered here and there..engulf the bland rice with some pulse and a minute piece of fish ,take a bath in the most filthy sanitation facility ever visualised or rather experienced by me (let me not describe),dress up and again run for the white circular building with stairs everywhere to do a program in java maybe..all this just for attendance primarily which is directly related to my grades and thereby my acquiring a job with a mere maybe 20000 pm..fuck man!..life sucks big time..
My mom said, once in ur life u ll have to suffer from destitution to gain that ultimate happiness..this is like 4 years of cutting my heart and putting the sensory happy part of my brain to coma..too much to compromise and too less to earn..and trust me with the complete dissatisfaction there is this tiny part of my cerebral system which has become prone to psychological disorder frequently..i am bewildered and overwhelmed at my own state sometimes..it hurts and tears are a regular affair now a days..maybe some solace is obtained when i can chat with folks who have actually achieved the authority to mesmerise me often bt its dull again..
I cannot express undue flattery so teachers don’t really know me, not domineering enough to have followers who wud make me feel like i am in some ‘Sex and the City’ storyline,do not feel like portraying my charm for the college ‘dudes’(pun intended definitely) nor do they find me fascinating enough for my snobbery, maybe..(and that is gud for me) as i don’t intend to hook up with these (self made assumption) ‘kewl’ guys..so basically going out every evening, fancy dressed, with nose high up the sky ,can be very well discarded from the possibilities to engage myself with...so its like a plate of fried maggi or dosa or newly discovered momo with my gfs in the evening after coll.
Irony ,city center comprises a dusty road and a under construction building here..so there is no place to take my agitated already dust allergic soul to and it gets dull everyday fading away too soon ..but finally there is home ,so when the a .c bus crosses the Vivekananda setu(2nd Hooghly bridge)and the skyline of Calcutta comes to focus a sigh of relief.. is let out by me ..and then home. sweet home..the paradise for me for the past 3 and a half years making me sometime believe that at least the biggest mistake of my life has made me realise the importance of my home..
this is the ultimate one..truely..the feelings of dismay and disgust is strongly mutual
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