(2nd March, 2012) Chhota

Chhota. That one small (quite literally) word that could describe my whole time here at MICA- every midnight conversation, every steaming cup of chai (that RK would most definitely call ‘kadak aur meethi’), those tyre swings.

In fact, in my head, the image of Chhota will always be that one Rana made in PGP1. That picture has been used and overused so many times, that I don’t even need to link it into this post. Oh what the hell, you’re gonna google it anyway! Here you go!

This morning every one walked up to Chhota to see that glorious sight- a refrigerator filled with cold drinks, the shelf full of chips and biscuits and of course, the one, most coveted, special snack- Maggi. I wolfed down one at about 11am this morning (don’t judge me!) and thought of all those things this place means to us. It is the place so many people shot to fame- an alumni directory of the who’s who of MICA’s gastronomic geniuses. The Imran of the Sandwich, the Anish of the Paratha, the Manvi of the rice- go down in history as the most popular Micans of all time.

But the list doesn’t end there. The names of the dishes of Chhota tell the tale of what so many people experienced there- sitting on those benches, day and night, sharing stories and lives between cigarette puffs and sips of Nimbu Paani. Chaar Palaash, the Crafting, the Ghosal Thali- every one of  them is one tasty story waiting to be told. It doesn’t matter that the ‘Italian’ (as it is fondly called) has absolutely nothing to do with Italy. Neither does the Manchurian hail from China. All that mattered was that at 2am, when we walked up to Chhota, Kishorbhai always had something ready.

I’ve fought with Lakshmi over the one perfectly aligned tube (that would retire to its crooked ways in a day or so), I’ve spend many solitary afternoons there with just the chai. I have screamed over the counter when the mess made South Indian (ugh!).

Chhota is so much more than just a culinary alternative on campus. It is the stuff a Mican is made of. The fact that it becomes a big part of culturalization is no coincidence. Being the only official smoking area on campus, you can find Matthew here more than in his office! And it always, always has Nimbu Pani.

31 Days in MICA- The countdown begins

This is my personal attempt to capture all that MICA means to be by chronicling the last 31 days that I have to spend here. For the rest of this month, I will try and document all that happens, through at least a post a day.

Its the end of 2 years of a very arbitrary decision I made in life and its a little bittersweet. I’m not exactly nostalgic right now (also a reason I haven’t gotten down to writing the testimonials). But I’m sure I’ll get there. I began life in MICA with MICA rules that many loved, hated and ridiculed. But #31daysinMICA is more for my own self than for anyone else.

It is a an attempt to salvage a little last bit of the experience. It is the creation of a time capsule to read and, hopefully, cherish many years later.

Khyal…

जब अधूरे चाँद पर ले जाओ,

कस के मेरा हाथ थम लेना ज़रूर,

किनारों पर से गिर न जाऊ कही…

जभी मेरे लिए coffee बनाओ,

तोह फून्ख मारना ज़रूर,

होंठ न जल जाये कही…

किसी शाम मेरी अगर याद आ जाये,

तोह आँखे बंद  कर लेना ज़रूर,

लम्हा न खो जाये कही…

यु ही कही बैठे हुए आँखे नम हो जाये,

तोह मेरा नाम ले लेना ज़रूर,

तन्हाई न छु जाये कही…

NC and the Art of Vehicle Non-Maintenance

It is a known and proven fact that a camp without disasters doesn’t quite feel like a camp. We almost look forward to the stuff that isn’t on the itinerary. But this time, we didn’t know what we were asking for.

I have limited knowledge about the anatomy of an automobile. But the vehicles we hired for the North East camp this year made sure I got a crash course in atleast naming some of the monsters that slept in the depths of its engines. From time to time, the parts of our vehicles made their presence felt by bursting, leaking, tearing, blowing off or just mysteriously coming to a standstill.

Also, as if it were a small mercy (or not!) the Motor Gods granted us, not all of this happened on the same day. It happened every day. Once the radiator blew, another day something was wrong with the gasket. Our tyre goddess had lawfully wedded the puncture god in the mountains of Mizoram and there was no telling if we ever had a brake in the first place.

Beyond a point we realized there was no point in worrying about the performance of our glorious vehicles. If they broke down, we walked when possible or just waited. When there was a biker who crashed into our bus (and escaped with surprisingly less injury) the first aid wallahs of the group hopped out to attend to his wounds without batting an eyelid. It was as though we were here to learn about the highway disasters.

But things eventually got better. Not that the vehicles worked fine, but we didn’t just pay that much attention anymore. Somewhere in the spirit of things on an NC camp, getting cranky doesn’t fit in. even those who made a few feeble attempts at complaining eventually gave up.

And in the same spirit of things, we learnt the biggest lessons of these camps. That long forgotten lesson of kindergarten. We learnt to share and adjust and squeeze in. we learnt to inconvenience ourselves just a little, and just be happy campers.

Poems that Rhyme

The shadow of a pen on paper in the candle light

A lock of hair that just won’t stay right

Old greeting cards that say ‘I love you’

And pretty pictures that say ‘Seasons Greetings’ too

Paper napkins in coffee shops with tea

With a little piece of cake for you and me

Children who scribble with crayons on the wall

And a little lamp burning in a lonely hall

Memories of warmth and a nice evening walk

Meaningless conversations and a meaningful talk

Lying down on the cold floor in summers

Of rock bands I don’t get- Guitarists and drummers

Waiting for it to rain by the window sill

Waiting for the clouds to loom over the hill

A song from about ten years ago

A wildflower voice and away I go

Of missing someone in the dead of the night

The shadow of a pen on paper in the candle light