I flipped through the pages of my college magazine of which i was a member of the editorial board and some sepia images start to relive in my memory.We worked on this mag at the fag end of our college days when every day counted towards an inexorable question of existence after the end of days..It was difficult to move out of a place that was inextricably carved into my fabric in these many days of different seasons..
Today,as the leaves are falling yellow and crimson, i remember a day, many summers back,when the hues of bluish fog entered my life as a perpetual shade of non existence.I forgot to learn anything from this place as I was so happy living here.The winter continues till date.Only thing's its now i realize that its been a long winter.
I should have imagined the bluish fog many summers back but i failed to.Today the winter teaches me many lessons that i forgot to learn.I'm picking up a few hymns of yesteryear,of the irriguous acacia leaves and some leaves of fallen memories.The angels have blessed and the devils had their time as well and i failed to understand my brevity.But the winter teaches me everything like my mother taught me to count many years back and before the many tears i shed were still the shining crystals of my eyes.
Today's pain of solitude teaches me yesterday's bliss of togetherness;the tears which fell on to the brown dust of the ground today taught me the sharpness of my yesterday's laughter;the steep trenches into which i tripped showed me the hilltops i climbed and the dark shadows of loneliness that surrounds me today enliven the bright,gail faces of camaraderie; all of which died into the cold undercurrents of time.All of us lived in colors and with a palette..
I'm grateful to my magazine.It showed me the cold of the winter and it gave me a blanket of memories before the cold got going.I see the the snow clad plain mountains of nothingness and i remember the exuberant songs of a spring i lived many summers back and i see the spring coming through the cold mountains,for me, to live yet another life...
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long after the gang had left college, the dhwani certificates were ready.
eric paul, pattar and aravind had significantly heavy certificates to receive.
they were outta coll and someone needed to find em and give em their cards
and one afternoon a junior kid tagged along to my class and kept their certificates alongwith mine on my bag (in my absence) and left.
they fuckin knw who would maintain contact with the eric paul who was then as is now lost in the myriad.
i gave the three certificates months later to pattar. I do not knw whthr they have reached eric and aravind as yet.
givn that pattar is a blurry half mad man , i wouldn bet either way.
my point is that these ppl and their extended gang had accepted me (junior by an year) as one of them.
that is saying something, for me
coz these are the people who 'do not adapt themselves to the world' but try instead 'to adapt the world to themselves.
i have faith in them, despite their lows and obscure times
some of the faith i reposed have been paid back, i am waiting for the rest
'...' = borrowed stuff this time GB Shaw.
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