Day Thirty Three

Today, my co-organiser and I went to college for a Malhar meeting. We met at the station and shared a warm hug. It was so lovely to meet her and the fact that we were now organisers, or, as is the terminology, OGs, was finally sinking in. We sat through that meeting noting down all the important points made (and some silly ones to laugh at later). Later, we reclined in the foyer on the benches and rocky chairs with our feet up to discuss and brainstorm about our events. Not only did we brainstorm, we laughed and shared stories and spoke about Calvin and Hobbes. We thought of pranks to play and demonstrated how to look busy when we aren't.
Sitting there, talking, eating Anna's sheera and drinking Anna's chai, I realized how much I had missed college and its comfort. I loved being in college again, just loved it.

College is beautiful in the evenings.

Day Thirty Two

Today I went to the printers near Bandra station, got a whole bunch of photos printed out, came home, cut them out from the printed sheets, cut out many tiny pieces of tape and asked Ilina to help me to make a collage inside my cupboard.

The photos are from my Calcutta trip. And this is what my cupboard looks like now. It looks like memories.

Day Thirty One

Today, I took an aspiring-actress-friend out for a photoshoot. We were hoping to include a few pictures into her portfolio. We drove to Patwardhan park and went in. There, we shot for about half an hour with people jogging by, wondering what we were up to and looking thoroughly interested. It wasn't until today that I realized this girl has some tremendous potential. I think she'll be successful one day, and I hope people appreciate her when she does.

Day Thirty

The following are excerpts from an application to the Literary Arts department for Malhar that I never used. Being an emotional person, I ended up talking about my personal experiences instead of my ideas and goals. The application that I finally submitted didn't have any of these paragraphs to it, but I'd like to share them with you. I wonder if you'll understand much or any of it. Maybe you will.

" I sat there in the massive Xaviers Hall for the first time listening to Father Fraiser delivering his orientation speech to us starry-eyed FYs. He spoke of Malhar and of its brilliance. He called on the CP to say a few words about it. He spoke passionately yet calmly, exaggerating on how our experience as a Xavierite would be incomplete without Malhar.

On my third day of college, I laid eyes upon the Malhar boards. I stood there staring at the various department charts. I hadn’t realized until then that I had to ‘apply’ to get into a department. Literary Arts called out to me. Its application seemed the most intriguing. I’d have to write a series of mini-essays on topics like “Who’s your favourite literary character and why? Write a story as that character.” and “Beards. For or against?” I decided to write an application for LA simply because I really wanted to write THAT application.

A few days later, I walked into LR37 (Ah, LR 37, you wonderful LA workstation) to be greeted by Cynthia Lewis (OG Niche Quiz) who was busy finishing off a sandwich. Nandan Krishnaswamy (bear-hug-giving OC) and the others walked in soon afterward. Cynthia told me a little about each of their events. From there, they went on to conduct a supremely whacky and unexpected interview. I found myself doing extempore, solving cryptic clues, making up anagrams and talking about food.

Acceptance! I got a phone call from Nandan a few days later who said, in his characteristic deep-but-excited monotone, that I had made it into LA and I could start coming for meetings at 3:30 every day. Little did I know then that LA would soon become an integral part of my life. 

During the summer of ’13, I was in Ladakh working for Snow Leopard Conservancy. I had almost no contact with Mumbai owing to sporadic internet and a dysfunctional sim card. Around the 1^st of May, I was miraculously informed that OG applications needed to be submitted. After getting hold of a phone that worked, I made some calls and finally got through to Ishita Chaudhary, OC LA ’13. I was ecstatic to know that this brilliant woman had made OC and the prospect of working under her as OG was fantastic. She encouraged me to send in my application and agreed to conduct my interview over the phone. However, I had only one night to write my application. I decided to give it a shot. Not knowing exactly what was expected of me, I set out putting down my ideas and thoughts and frantically managed to send my application in by the midnight deadline. (God bless Leh’s cyber cafes.) I knew by then that working on Malhar from Leh wouldn’t be easy. Ishita conducted my interview the next day over the phone and said she’ll get back to me about who made the cut the following day. I wanted to be OG, I really did, especially since I’d get to work with Ishita. When she called to say I hadn’t got the position, I was disappointed. But when she enlisted those who did make it, I wasn’t anymore. Even if I was just a volunteer this year, I was going to be working under some of my best friends and all that mattered then was LAve. 

I filled in my volunteer application and dropped it into the box as soon as SY began. I started work two days later. I walked in for my first meeting in 2013 to find all the OGs sitting around and talking. After a warm welcome, I too settled down and before I knew it, I was brainstorming for Extempore. There was neither awkwardness nor the need for introductions. I was home. And it felt good.

  

I fell in love with LA within my first month of working for Malhar. Even before Malhar’12 kick started, I knew I would be coming back the following year. I feel radiant warmth, a feeling of home every time I walk through the doors of LR 37, slip out of my shoes and put on my thinking cap. LA has become my family. It is what defines me as a person and is nothing short of an obsession. "

  

Well, today, I received a phone call just before I sat down to lunch. It was Ishita, a close friend, who has both inspired and guided me through the past year. She yelled "Congratulations!!" into the phone and informed me of my selection as an Organiser for LA, Malhar'14. I was astounded and could barely get any words out of my mouth. She told me that she was proud and happy, that she knew I deserved it and that she was certain I'd do a good job. My mind was numb and yet, ecstatic. I hugged my whole family with utter joy.

Later that day, I received an email welcoming me to Malhar, to LA. The photo that I'm adding is an excerpt from that long email enlisting both the joys and trying times up ahead. I now brace myself for the days and months that lay in my wait. I'm going to be swamped with work, unreasonable deadlines and raised expectations, and I can't wait to be.

Day Twenty Nine

Today, we found a Ludo board at my grandparents' place. I generally keep away from Ludo because it's such a long game and tends to get pretty boring half way through. But upon my mother's insistence, I sat down to play with her, Ilina and our grandfather. I don't remember the last time I played a board game, or any game for that matter, with him.

We ended up having a great time together. We cracked jokes and got completely absorbed into the game with my grandfather rolling nothing but sixes, Ilina being confident of winning even though all she got were ones, me laughing loudly and mom playing smartly with strategy. After a long, long game, I was both thrilled and exhausted.

It's nice when we have fun together as a family. Sometimes I feel like we've grown apart over the years, or perhaps it's me who has moved away. I've gotten caught up with my own life, my college, my work, my friends and academics. Maybe I ought to realize just how much there is to the life at home immediately around me before I jump far away into a world of my own. I need both worlds- perhaps one more than the other.

Day Twenty Eight

P. G. Wodehouse, you literary genius, I bow down before you. How do you attract my attention so? How do you catch me by the collar and yank my straight into your writing, making my eyelids stiffen and my stomach hurt from all the laughter you cause? Tell me, Sire, how do you manage to keep me hooked book after book after book? How is it that I never tire of reading about a lost bloke and his quest for a fair one? How is it that old characters stay so young? How is it that I can say with utmost confidence that I wherever I go, one would find one of your books in my bag? You're writing has been my companion through my teenage years and will continue to keep me alive for decades to come.
You're immortal. Timeless. Infinite.
You're characters breathe life into you, and your stories breathe life into me.

"The Girl In Blue" tickles.

Day Twenty Seven

In Calcutta, tea and other drinks from roadside stalls are served in terracotta glasses and pots. Knowing that all we get in Mumbai are plastic or paper cups, I kept all the glasses that I drank in to bring home.
Drinking from them is so refreshing. They keep tea warm and nimbu paani cold. They feel lovely in my hand and against my lips. Seeing boxes full of discarded cups made me want to bring them all home. It's nice to have found a metropolitan city independent of glass and plastic, one that's so integrally eco-friendly.

Today, Ilina and I painted the pots and cups that I brought home. We had nice, light conversation and had an interesting discussion about the gradation of the way paint gets absorbed along the inside of the glass. I painted two. One was black with yellow stick figures and birds on it while the other was red with abstract black markings on it. Funny looking things. It's been ages since I painted. I wonder why.

Day Twenty Six

I got a postcard in the mail today! It was the second one in a week! And the icing on the cake was that the inscription was in rhyme!
I opened the door to leave home when I found it at my feet- carelessly slipped through the door by our postman. My smile widened as I read. I love when the back of the postcard makes me happier than the picture on the front.

Postcards make a lot of sense to me. When one's out vacationing, one rarely gets the time to send details or highlights of one's trip to one's near and dear ones. So, one picks up an overpriced postcard from a tourist-y spot and one scribbles on the address and a note at the back and sends it off. How perfectly perfect. Not to mention convenient.
Although, I do think that if we're going to be charged twenty-five rupees for a postcard, it ought to come with a stamp on it.

I also wish India had more fun stamps, perhaps with our national bird or animal, or with characters from The Jungle Book. Our late Prime Minister is really tired of being pasted all over the place.

Day Twenty Five

Today, Bum and I were bored. So we gave each other a topic to write about. It was nice to do some writing with actual pen and paper. It's a pity that we've become slaves to technology- making memos on our mobile phone, using virtual sticky-notes, writing emails instead of letters and writing word documents. I still maintain that no matter what I'm writing, ideas never flow onto a keyboard like they do onto paper.

Random topics leading to little tales of silly nonsense. What a lovely way to bide away the time.

Day Twenty Four

After four long days of walking continuously in the scorching heat and getting back home just to stay up all night watching movies and telling jokes, I was pretty tired. Today, I slept in, without a care in the world. It was blissful. I don’t remember what time it was when I finally awoke, but it was much later than usual (which is not early anyway). Have you ever slept so heavily that your eyelids have been soldered shut, that your body is pulled down by a force stronger than gravity, that your subconscious is too tired to dream, that the world is a big hole and you’re sinking through it, that no sound or movement could pull you out, that you can feel every cell in your body recline and smile? Well, that’s how wonderful it felt to sleep today. And when you sleep so comfy, having to wake up isn’t all that bad.