Post 11.

With a badly twisted finger, a swollen knee and a broken pair of spectacles (All of them, the result of a basketball game gone wrong), I’m typing this post. It’s been so long since I’ve actually posted something on my blog, that I almost don’t know how to do it anymore.

This past one week in IIT Guwahati, has, to put it in a word, been ‘hectic’. With classes, labs, tutorials, basketball, tech-fest work, and the little bit of Personality Development Programme’s that we seniors hold for the freshers, I’ve hardly given any thought to the fact that I miss being at home in Dubai, I miss those evening I spent at my friend’s homes. I miss those few little things that I used to do. :)

But yes, I am back! To Guwahati, to my college, and this time as a senior. No more do I have to listen to what other people want me to do. No more do I have to run around doing errands for some random senior, whose name I don’t even know. No more do I have to make sure that I don’t get into any unecessary trouble. (Which, by the way, I don’t think will ever change. I ALWAYS get into trouble. :P)

And apart from the horrible weather, I must say, I enjoy being back. I’ve missed being in my room, with the mosquitoes and the lizards. I missed laughing with my friends when the mess worker calls the spoon, “Samas”. :)

I got to go to Hyderabad btw, and I must say, it felt GOOD. To finally meet all of those FIITJEE beggar-friends of mine. :P To go to IMAX to watch Inception.
To sit in my veranda and read my book, and just be in Hyderabad. :)

If I sound confused because of the way I refer to all three places and tell you how much I enjoy spending time in each of those places. Then let me tell you, it’s not because I’m confused.

It doesn’t matter if the place is in the middle of the desert, or if the place witnesses a bandh every week, or if the place is in the remotest corner of the country. It’s just that, all of these places? Believe it or not, these places are my homes. All of them. And that’s something I shall cherish. :)

Until next time,


Ciao,
JB


Today’s Song: “Wish You Were Here” by Pink Floyd

...

On one hand, I really want to go Hyderabad. I really want to go back to Guwahati. But on the other hand? I don’t want to leave yet. I don’t think I really did all that I wanted to these past couple of months in Dubai.

Haha, right about this point in time, I was supposed to bored to death with holidays wasn’t I? :P Well, I really don’t know, but I don’t think I am. :) Don’t get me wrong, I AM kind of irritated. But not for the reasons one would expect me to be.

So, Blah.

I’m going to Hyderabad!!!

With all those friends ‘waiting’ for me over there. (Sarcasm)

With all those teeny weeny things that I got to do before leaving Dubai and after
reaching Hyderabad, I’m going to be a bit busy these few days.

So yea, until I have something to write about.

Ciao,

J.


P.S. Today’s Song: “You’re not over” by Eminem.

Who Am I?

Although the title somehow gives the impression of me writing an article that a Mr. Sanjay Shinghania would have written [assuming that he had enough of a memory to remember what he was writing about..:) ]But no, this isnt about me asking myself who I am in society, its more about me asking myself how I shall be remembered in society, by all those people that I care about . Who shall I be remembered as, when people look down at their lives and regret those 1000 things that they do regret or cherish that one moment that they think “changed” their very lives.

There’s always been this lingering question of who we are and what role do we have in life and the lives of others. And there shall always be this question of whether we truly are who we want to be, or else, why would we care of what others thought of us? Why do we care about what others think when someone or we ourselves do what we do? Why is it that I [and here I finally ask the question] always want to be someone who is remembered for what he was to others than for what he just was? And why is that it has taken me so long to realise the fact that just being remembered isn’t enough. Why is it that it has taken me so long to realise that a person isn’t just what he is, more than what he is, he’s what he’s remembered by.

All around us, we find a number of reasons to remember someone else, to remember and cherish or try to forget those moments that one has had with that one person, to hope that there will finally be a day when we get to relive those days, or not. There will always be a memory, like it or not, of any episode in life, and more importantly, every person in our lives. It’s those memories that tell us who that person was to us, who that person shall be remembered as.

Finally I ask, as a person in other people’s lives, who am I remembered as? Am I just another one of those thousands in one’s life who doesn’t seem to matter much? Or am I someone else? Am I the one person who was avoided? Or am I someone who is remembered because I was one of the people no one could ignore?

There are so many of these irrelevant, ambiguous questions that don’t seem to have much importance but whose answers seem to have such an irreversible effect on us.To some, it might not seem like this post may have a point, and they may be correct. Maybe this was just another post to take up some more of that infinite kb on the internet. But to some others, like me, this is what they feel to be more important than almost everything in their lives. After all, this is a question whose answer defines who we are. It gives us the answer to the question “Who Am I”.

Ciao :)

Today's Song: "Dreaming Wide Awake" by Poets of the Fall