[from the archives]
You won't believe the weather we are having here for the last few days. Weather is of course the quintessential conversation filler, but this one is exclusively about it. So I am obviating all the disgrace attached to the topic just for this piece. ok ?
The rains have always been unpredictable here at Kharagpur. The day would be sunny, all bright and pretty and WHAM ! We would have heavy rains an hour later - uprooting trees and pushing the cows and dogs to take shelter in our hostels. This year, the truculent batch of rains ended somewhere around mid august, in turn gifting us with ten days of light breeze and azure skies. We ignored mother nature for a while, too preoccupied with pseudo academic activities. Then, the new improved Kharagpur rains came unannounced.
It started off with a chilly night a week back. People dug out smelly blankets and hideous full sleeved t-shirts. The following day's breakfast session seemed like a day from deep winter. Handkerchief covered noses, majority of the students with unshowered hair and uncleansed body beneath it, double layered clothing and a few of those fashionably matched too. The tea that morning was relished like God's own nectar. God it seemed, was undecided about the weather he wanted to present to this forsaken institute. Hey ! He wasn't even sure whether to puncture the cloud and let the water pour down.
So it all froze in mid-air. Yes..Droplets so small, that they were too scared to touch the muddy ground, so lethargic that they waited for our skin to move through the air and tagged along. The clouds would neither cry their hearts out, nor move on with their life. They remained transfixed, not sure how and when to let go off their offsprings.
The dilemma seeped through our skins too, infecting our brains. Was the rain really umbrella-worthy ? A tough conflict between bearing the teasing drops on the face while having an umbrella in the bag and putting up such a strong defence for such a feeble foe.
We all waited. We all silently wished the clouds away. We wished that the classes would be suspended. We hated it. We loved it. It was the right thing happening at the wrong time, like most of the events of our lives....Imagine a slight breeze at one in the afternoon, pushing out all the stenches of the hostel room. Imagine the droplets bouncing on the sill, some bold enough to wet your feet. Picture yourself doing the thing you like best - reading a novel, watching your favourite Shahkrukh Khan or simply dozing off. Who would anyone want to read drivel about Summer Air Conditioning Refrigeration Cycles when the room is blessed with the exact humidity ratio and the dry air flow rate is just right ? It is one of those moments in life when you undergo a violent battle with your conscience, justifying the laziness, trashing thyself, blessing the weather, cursing the class schedule, repeatedly delaying the alarm on the computer, minute by minute, to the limit when you can't grant yourself a second of inefficiency. Here the class of IITians gets divided into two simple groups. Those who win the battle with their conscience and blissfully enjoy their free hours, and those who are bold enough to tolerate the ennui that IIT offers us, all paid for of course.
I am not really sure who has the last laugh. The one who enjoyed this miniscule fraction of his life, or the one who was productive during the same span of time. It doesn't really matter anyway. Does it ?
You won't believe the weather we are having here for the last few days. Weather is of course the quintessential conversation filler, but this one is exclusively about it. So I am obviating all the disgrace attached to the topic just for this piece. ok ?
The rains have always been unpredictable here at Kharagpur. The day would be sunny, all bright and pretty and WHAM ! We would have heavy rains an hour later - uprooting trees and pushing the cows and dogs to take shelter in our hostels. This year, the truculent batch of rains ended somewhere around mid august, in turn gifting us with ten days of light breeze and azure skies. We ignored mother nature for a while, too preoccupied with pseudo academic activities. Then, the new improved Kharagpur rains came unannounced.
It started off with a chilly night a week back. People dug out smelly blankets and hideous full sleeved t-shirts. The following day's breakfast session seemed like a day from deep winter. Handkerchief covered noses, majority of the students with unshowered hair and uncleansed body beneath it, double layered clothing and a few of those fashionably matched too. The tea that morning was relished like God's own nectar. God it seemed, was undecided about the weather he wanted to present to this forsaken institute. Hey ! He wasn't even sure whether to puncture the cloud and let the water pour down.
So it all froze in mid-air. Yes..Droplets so small, that they were too scared to touch the muddy ground, so lethargic that they waited for our skin to move through the air and tagged along. The clouds would neither cry their hearts out, nor move on with their life. They remained transfixed, not sure how and when to let go off their offsprings.
The dilemma seeped through our skins too, infecting our brains. Was the rain really umbrella-worthy ? A tough conflict between bearing the teasing drops on the face while having an umbrella in the bag and putting up such a strong defence for such a feeble foe.
We all waited. We all silently wished the clouds away. We wished that the classes would be suspended. We hated it. We loved it. It was the right thing happening at the wrong time, like most of the events of our lives....Imagine a slight breeze at one in the afternoon, pushing out all the stenches of the hostel room. Imagine the droplets bouncing on the sill, some bold enough to wet your feet. Picture yourself doing the thing you like best - reading a novel, watching your favourite Shahkrukh Khan or simply dozing off. Who would anyone want to read drivel about Summer Air Conditioning Refrigeration Cycles when the room is blessed with the exact humidity ratio and the dry air flow rate is just right ? It is one of those moments in life when you undergo a violent battle with your conscience, justifying the laziness, trashing thyself, blessing the weather, cursing the class schedule, repeatedly delaying the alarm on the computer, minute by minute, to the limit when you can't grant yourself a second of inefficiency. Here the class of IITians gets divided into two simple groups. Those who win the battle with their conscience and blissfully enjoy their free hours, and those who are bold enough to tolerate the ennui that IIT offers us, all paid for of course.
I am not really sure who has the last laugh. The one who enjoyed this miniscule fraction of his life, or the one who was productive during the same span of time. It doesn't really matter anyway. Does it ?
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