Sunday, 9 September 2012

Getting Fresh - II

(For Part-I of this post, visit

The lackadaisical lifestyle that dominated my first half at Munger very quickly gave way to frenetic- there's no other word for it- work.

I used the white board more times in three days than I ever did back in my hostel room in four years
I worked for 14 hours a day. I worked on Sundays and I worked from 11 to 6 in the night (or the morning, whatever) and just when it seemed to me that I was going to go the way of the dinosaurs, a convocation happened.

For a couple of days, I found myself back in the infernal institute which had bad food, erratic and mostly poor internet and with a penchant for cutting out the power on the eve of an examination. It was then that I had the most predictable epiphany.

You don't need great luxury if you can slouch all day with a bunch of basters.

Add the fact that I barely had a chance to bid farewell to everyone on my own terms (courtesy a broken fibula) and you'd know that I clicked a lot of photos.

Thank God for convocations; I'm waiting for my official batch reunion now
(which should come on some date in 2037).


On the journey back to Munger, I was struck by the sight of a monstrously long queue awaiting the same train I was supposed to board. Easily running down a hundred metres or so, it was whipped into place by a few policemen who looked bored with the mundane task of handling scores of disgruntled passengers all clamouring for a way to slip ahead in the line, a lathi or two be damned. My attempts to take a snap were aborted when I noticed the anti-elitist stink eye I received from a fair few fellow travelers and I could only afford to lock away the image of that human snake winding its way down the platform in Howrah. The poor souls only wanted a square feet of area (or less) - enough space for a trip back home.

I end this note with what I hope would be an enduring symbol of my experiences in the strange cut-off town that is Munger.