Meeting them is always so much fun…old friends…who had once been a part of your life…a life in your life…not forgotten and yet forgotten…loved and yet not loved…missed and yet so much not missed…and suddenly u turn a corner to find them standing….waiting…leading you through an entire memory lane full with wonderful and colourful memoir.

This too would pass…probably this might not even count…and yet they seem to leave an impression which you believe would last for a life time!!!

I linger around…trying to capture everything…but of course…this too would pass!

Vicky bhaiya seems lonely or is it a figment of my imagination? He is happy for his parents. They have an excellent support system back home. People who are always willing to help them, friends who celebrate diwali with them, relatives who stick by his parents through thick and thin. It lessens his worries, especially after the tragedy the whole family faced a few years ago. The tragedy has put an extra burden on the only son. He asks me to visit them more often.

Captain saheb is worried that he might be wasting his life in the army. Once an avid reader, he has stopped reading books. He is trying out new hobbies. Previously it was photography and now it is star gazing. Where do you live? Are you happy? A shack, rather a thatched hut – with a fixed steel fixture used as a table. I didn’t delve too much into the detail, for fear of not liking what I might have to hear. He asks me for a list of books he can read during his free time, which he has in plenty. Do I hear frustration in his voice? He complains about his job which doesn’t have much to offer in terms of variety. His mind keeps wandering off to various things, various issues. He discusses a couple of them with me and then suddenly goes silent. What gibberish am I talking? I encourage him, but the moment has transformed into something else, he has transformed into someone else. I can’t bring it back and probably neither can he. We chat for a while about general things people talk about on phone. I ask him to call me again and more frequently. He might and then again he might not. Should I be worried?

Singapore awaits me… and so does loneliness!

It’s marriage season. Ghosh is getting married to his sweetheart and Arzi…well would be getting married soon. Chow would be the first one. I would have the luxury of being a silent observer. Would it be an end of our cherished relationship, I fear. More importantly, should I be thinking at all?

I cleaned my room after a long time. Vacuum cleaned the carpets. Gigolo points out that it’s all a farce. His table is probably dirtier than my entire room. Probably it is. I shouldn’t be bothered.

CFA is round the corner and I haven’t started my preps yet. My excuse – I have to learn to use the calculator first. Then have to clean my room, which is why I did clean it up today, in the first place. And then… something would spring up again I guess.

Had my first steam bath. Roman set up – felt like royalty. Me and Gavri – discussed the entire one and a half year of IIMB. Conclusion – a couple of beers would have added to our fun.

Aeons have passed, and despite so many complaints and requests from few people who actually read my blog (not many are aware that I do have a blog…yeah, I am an epitome of modesty), I have been letting them down for long. So lemme just take stock of what I have been doing…

Singapura: Slogged and slogged…averaging around 18 hours a day (phew!). And not surprisingly, I did like the work. It was engrossing at times. And for the rest of the time, well! I just had to do it. And yeah! Singapura was fun. Motu & I explored all the exquisite cuisines Singapura had to offer, well almost all. Crabs, lobsters, cheesecakes…! And Gajodhar was a discovery…

Amritsar to Godda: 36 hours long train journey with mom, dad, didi and Archu. Spent hours and hours talking to di about how she plans to reform the education system of Bihar. She is some inspiration. She amazes me with her confidence in everything she does. And yet! I can feel the sadness beneath the surface which brings out the vulnerability in her eyes.

Archu was a revelation. The fear of sleeping on the top most berth still haunts him and yet he has matured in more ways than one. The PSP would have kept him engaged for all 36 hours, had it not been for the Indian Railways. For once we were thankful that not all trains provide facilities to charge portable devices. He was made to study a bit though, which obviously did not leave him very happy.

And the memories which hit me like a gust of wind. While lying down, I went through all of them, frame by frame, and was engulfed once again in loneliness.

Home: The house looks prettier now. Choti has done some amazing work with the living room and mom couldn’t resist the temptation of showing me around the moment I entered the house. But the room on the top floor (it’s supposed to be my room) looks lonely, with dull coloured sheets covering everything in the room. Would I ever stay in that room?

Spent considerable amount of time exploring the four (yes four it is) terraces, giving ideas to mom as to how can she convert one of them to a bar. She was furious; nevertheless she agreed to add at least a shed to one of the terraces, with sitting arrangements.

With Sarah: Wonderful! Would I be able to relive the times again? I wonder…

I had an opportunity of talking to one of my professors from IIT Roorkee a couple of weeks ago. Her warm, homely voice took me down the memory lane of what it used to be when I was at the college. Her husband is no more and I could glean a sense of sadness in her usual jovial voice. She was worried about her son who had been hopping from one company to another. I tried to assure her that eventually he would do well. I hope I did assuage some of her fears.

Life has taken so many turns and has finally narrowed down into a small stream. I know this would not last and even from here I can see the next turn. I am afraid for I do not know what lies beyond the turn. I am afraid that it might turn out to be one big waterfall or a gigantic whirlpool that might suck me into it. But then I might enjoy it as well.

From a friend….

I am not supposed to provide solutions, nor am I adept at giving reasons. There are numerous options available, but I won’t help you evaluate them. But I promise, I would be with you. Till the end.

Choice is yours. It isn’t easy, it has never been. Not for you, nor for anyone else. But still people have made choices. And the only commonality is that they chose to live.

Is it so difficult? It damn very much is.

Where are we heading to? Where would we end up? They say, journey matters. Destination is but an illusion. Life is sum total of what you did, of what you experienced, of whom you experienced with. Along the journey, I promise to be with you. I would share your thoughts, if you care to share them with me. You would have my shoulders, whenever you need to cry. I promise, I would be with you.

I would not ask questions. I won’t seek answers. I won’t judge you.

I promise, I would be with you.

Golu is still holding on to her. He knows he should let it go. But he is at his wits end. How should he let go? He is confused and feels helpless. Would he be able to come out of the sorry state of affairs he was in?

They say he would. With time…

He has been trying to drown himself in work for past couple of months. He has plans of starting his studies soon in a hope to re initiate his life. But it isn’t helping him much. He reminisces the days spent with Sarah. Sarah! He shouts her name aloud. A cold wave touches his feet, washing away the sand he stands on, and a shiver runs through his spine. He falls deeper into the abyss.

He knew it was inevitable and had been preparing himself to face this day for a long time now. But the force with which it hit him, has taken him by surprise. The pangs of pains cut through his soul and he feels bloodless.

He still clings to some hope, not sure of what might become of him and of Sarah. He thinks he believes in destiny. But deep inside, he knows, it’s an end, or may be a beginning. Golu is not sure. He is not sure of anything these days.

Destiny, yeah! He finishes his last beer and walks towards his car, preparing himself for yet another sleepless night.

Everyday it’s a massacre. Right?

First time you get a mail, you rush to the notice board to be disappointed. Next time, you walk down the gallery with cautious steps. Eventually you have to drag yourself to face it yet again. The disappointment, the frustration!!

You desperately seek your name amongst the shortlisted students and wonder what did you lack or what did your resume lack. Is it because I am not from an IIT, or is it because I missed out on a good JEE rank? It could be because I did not perform during my professional career or may be I am no good at all. You try to reason it out but that makes things worse. Reasoning leads to further depression, because what other reason can you attribute to the utterly miserable state of affairs other than that you are a worthless moron.

And ah! the dreams you had. Dreams of attaining salvation, of washing off your earlier sins and of a fresh beginning.

But still you hope.

And one fine day, even hope deserts you for how long can you cling to this eighth sin. And the worst part, you still have to continue with your normal life, attend classes, write quizzes, be awake during endless PPTs…

That is it all about. Isn’t? The game should go on. For there are many more to come.

Two weeks at IIM B, and I am still to get into the rhythm of the place. I suppose things would eventually settle down, but the frenzied pace itself is overwhelming. Failures, success, passion, disappointments, enthu…..and the list goes on and on…..

One and half hour of class is difficult at a stretch and I dozed of a zillion times in the classroom in just a week. Am trying to device new ways of “staying alive”.