It’s an awesome composition, by the great aachu ( now in UC Davis). Hats off, really. It came out in the last edition of ‘Raman Effect’, our wall mag. This year i’m gonna ‘update’ it for the hostel mag. A tough job, no doubt 
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They say love is a thing worth dying for. They also say death is a thing not worth loving. Such is the paradoxical nature of undying love. What a pity! Well, this minor quibble is just a prelude to a more reflective (!) piece of literature that accentuates (!!) this prestigious (!!!) wall magazine. Promising no more extraneous exclamation, I delve into the topic, which, I fear, might culminate in a bit more eccentric note than I conceive it to be.
When Ritam asked me to scribble a few words for Raman Effect, I was devoid of any damn idea about what to write. Whenever I come across such situations, I pick up a book and modify plagiarized concepts. He kept on pestering and I kept on bluffing that the gravy is well prepared; I just need the fish and the Kaliya would be ready within Monday. In the meantime I grabbed Coelho’s Zahir from JJR’s nest and started turning the pages in rapid succession. Going through 90 of them I cruised to success. This is the guy I’m looking for. Hallelujah!!
Those who’ve read the book know who Mikhail is. To those who haven’t, it is irrelevant. But I want to brief the Mongolian creation myth that he recited. According to it, ” There came a wild dog who was blue and grey and whose destiny was imposed on him by the heavens. His mate was a roe deer.” The eternal hunter and the hunted stuff, but the tinge of spice comes right here. Instead of destroying each other, they fell in love. Wow!! ” .. two impossibilities who have found each other, and because they overcome their own natures and their barriers, they make the world possible too.” The bottom line- out of two different natures, the flower of love blossoms. In contradiction, it spreads its fragrance. In confrontation and transformation, it is forever preserved. I’ve got my cup of coffee!
Wandering in the ISI campus for a span of nearly three and half years, I’ve often wondered why on earth this institution fails to produce lovebirds in greater extent in these days. Given the freedom to discuss, successful instances will comprise of, regrettably, degenerate case. Dangling stories that Mr. X is seen flanked by Miss Y 1, Miss Y2, …, Miss Ynor that Mr. X is often seen loitering around the LH when the early morning sky starts blushing or that Mr. Z is seen chatting with Miss W for, say nearly an hour (and even the droplets of rain couldn’t distract their attention) or that Mr. Z has asked his juniors to keep an eye on Miss W, for she is the only girl he cares about– are never acknowledged in their true spirit, i.e., Mr. X or Mr. Z are fodders of Cupid. On the contrary, frustrated people make fun of them and these stories resonate with backbenchers’ mirth, the teacher threatens the class with dire consequences, and a budding love story goes haywire. Intelligent are those who keep it hush-hush and one fine morning you visit your dear friend’s orkut profile to see her relationship status changed overnight. And when you ask her about the guy, she chuckles mysteriously and you have to explore yourself that your nice decent classmate is her reticent lover. Did you get the moral? Don’t be expressive. Exhibitionism is the worst form of the art. Be secretive. Get your heart under wraps. Prepare your fishing rod. Choose the right bait. Wait for the Eureka moment.
But I’m going out of the track. I don’t want to be your love guru! Invoke Mikhail. What did he say? Confrontation, contradiction etc are the catalysts of a successful love story. I think he’s bloody correct. Look at Bollywood. Look at the so-called evergreen romantic films. What is the spectacle? Boy meets girl—boy irritates girl—boy croons chutkule numbers where his heart, thanks to his choreographer, slides down to his abdomen—girl slaps boy—now boy turns indifferent to the girl—girl starts missing his mischievous activities—one day goons tease the girl—girl cries for help and boy appears as her savior — making a mess of the shooting spot, boy pretends to ignore girl and the girl does the rest to complete the story. I know you don’t give a damn to these “cheap”, “naïve” storyline. But, I do believe this is exactly how a real love story should develop. In confrontations, in contradictions. And this is precisely the problem with ISI. Boys don’t even dare to tease girls. Keep campus dancing way apart, have you ever seen our coolest dude dedicating a song like ” dekha jo tujhe yaar, dilme baji guitar” to a girl and the girl giving a tight slap right on his face? If you think I’m advocating eve teasing, I can’t help. I’m just speaking my heart out. Whenever it comes to dedicating a romantic song in ripples/ spotlight the guys blush in shame and use adjectives pronouns adverbs conjunctions and even interjections but not proper nouns.
So, what’s the solution? Feed Castrol GTX to your bike. Strengthen your muscles. Mug up the latest hip-shaking track. Learn to whistle. Learn to pass comments and have a get-up so that you remain thoroughly indistinguishable from street-rowdies. Only such hardcore treatments can put these fruitless gossips to rout. Unless you mix hydrochloric acid with nitric acid, you can’t dissolve something as precious as gold. To grow a good chemistry, you have to start with collision. I assure you, the metamorphosis of a smack into a kiss hardly takes a couple of months. All you have to do is to keep patience and have blind faith in Mikhail.
Only then you can dream of achieving something bigger than a mere share of taxi fare!
