Unpredictability can be a turn off sometimes. Such things grown in on you over a long span of time.
You know what else can be a turn off? Gossip. Yes, oodles and ooldes of gossip. Somehow, one of the many cliches that we hear seems to deem fit the situations we encounter. But gossip never dies. Hail, all gossip-mongers. Somehow, privacy is non-existent. As is the ability to exercise the brain in judgment. And a lot of other things, but in judgment, mainly. The brain is used to mug, and only mug. When it comes to decisions? We'd rather go with the majority, wouldn't we? And we're in a law school? One of the million ironies of life.

I read my first ever blog-post and laughed. It was in January 2008. Can you believe, I actually fretted about leaving home, going to college? A while before that, I used to fret over balance sheets. Mine never used to tally, probably due to my abysmal mathematical skills (I can't even add or subtract without making a gazillion errors). I think my balance sheet tallied for the first time in the boards, and even then, the amount was wrong. And it turned out ok. Tallied/untallied balance sheets. Big deal.
It sounds so ludicrous now. Who knows, maybe ten years from now, I'll read these blog posts and laugh. It's always good to find humour out of things you don't expect you will.
I miss New Year Celebrations. The 2004-2005 New Year was by far, the best ever. I can't believe that it's been 5 years since then.
4 years isn't that long, after all. Much as I want 4 years to get over soon, I want to stay eighteen forever. I dont wan't to leave this place, counting years before a gray hair sprouts in my head.
Sigh. To memories.

The person who says that happiness comes from within, should be shot. It does not come from within. It just does not. It is not a state of mind. It does not come from observing nature's beauty. Philosophy is for idealist thinkers.
As for us soon-to-be-lawyers, we thrive on practicality. We need to be grounded, all the time, sardonic as it sounds. In the light of practicality, happiness is love, family, feeling of contentment, money, wealth. Happiness is finding home.

I have not found home here. Does this mean I am not happy?

You learn a lot of things in this place. And law is NOT one of them...
Things that i've learnt in this terribly short span of time, which has felt like eternity:
1. Diplomacy is the best. Don't have an opinion. If you do have an opinion, keep it stuffed between your tongue and the roof of your mouth.
2. People will judge you, no matter what. You can't really change that, or do anything about that.
3. Most people are pretty screwed up. Since it's impossible to judge who is normal without getting in the middle of a rut, it's best to stay away.
4. Hardwork does not pay. Sucking up does.
5. Trivialities prevail. Stay away, again.
6. Seniors are right, no matter what. Even if they are wrong, don't say it. Seniors are messengers of God. They can do no wrong. Courtesy, Divine Origin Theory of Political Obligation. Obligation owed to seniors is unlimited.
7. When called, don't ignore.
8. Don't eat. The food is disgusting, unhealthy and fattening.
9. The whole North-Indian/South-Indian thing cannot be done away with. Accept that you're a dark-skinned (black), non-Hindi Speaking avaracious, over-ambitioous, over-competitive, unfeeling mugger similar to the grossly exaggerated potrayal in 3 Idiots and be proud about it.
10. Regionalism prevails. Live with it, don't deal with it.
11. Plagiarise projects.
12. Self-studying is the only studying you can get done here. Classroom learning is a utopian concept. Plato has 'education as a method of learning' in his ideal state.
13. There is a thin line between stupidity and smartness. It takes one to know one.
14. Keep to yourself. i think this one tops the list. Keeping to yourself.
15. Suddenly, Linkin Park seems like good music. Loud, crazy metal with lyrics that spew frustration and anger. A good way to give vent to feelings. Linkin Park on full-volume. And you need to sing along for the full effect.
16. You can never go to class even once looking the least bit disillusioned without being the butt of someone's jokes. In fact, you are always the butt of someone's joke.
17. Keep to yourself. I find the need to reiterate.


And there is more to this list. Right now, a Scotch and a doobey sound tempting. But I think I'll have to make do with a TV sitcom with slapstick humour and cereal. Damn. Screw morality.

And the list could go on forever.

Where did all that enthusiasm go?
I remember my first day at law school, when I was all geared up for what I had believed would be the most exhilerating years of my liffe. Lost as I was in the sea of unfamiliar faces, I tried to find a place amidst the hostililty and coldness that had not yet percolated to my veins, and that just wafted about in the air like a wisp of smoke that didn't obscure your vision quite so much. Classes were fun. Notes were taken down. Doubts raised. I was a front-bencher. Yes, me. The library was a frequent haunt. Committee-meetings were much awaited. Debate sessions were fun. The experience of mooting was exhalting, despite the volume of research that went with it. Outings were frequent. Dressing up to class was fun. Smiling was fun. Talking to people was common--and a necessity, even.
And then, everything just changes. The enthusiasm is gone. Dead. Smiling is forced, sometimes, not even an option. Classes are exclusively attended for attendance. I'm a back-bencher, paperback in hand, i-pod plugged in ears. People are a turn-off, for the obvious reasons of lack of synchronicity and a whole lot of other things that just cannot be penned down here. Committee meetings are not awaited anymore. Debating seems dry. Mooting is arbitrary, as is the grading system. Studying is an ordeal. Sanity is stretched. Insane people seem to mottle the campus. Bleary-eyed, stoned, half-drunk people constitute a major chunk of what is left of the sane people.
It's not the same. Was never meant to be. All the same, the thought that it could have is good enought.

Shoot me.

Books. I miss reading. The library is one of the most depressing places. Dingy and small, with dull tubelights, long tables and chairs squished in. Racks and racks of shelves, which comprise books that cannot be issued, but only referred to. A smirking librarian, picking on people for whispering. Serious-faced people hammering away at laptops or consulting fat books that they cannot issue and read in the comfort of their rooms. The silence is overwhelming, save a few stray whispers. And the best part is, fiction is denied to law-students, apparently, since the only books available in the library are law books, and a few cliched classics that are supposed to represent the entire class of fiction books. Heck, they don't even have legal-fiction.
It's just fat law textbooks, tattered and dog-eared, wedged between fatter books, on the ugly metal rack. This is testimony to the fact that learning is imposed on us in the most terrible ways. Mental growth is discouraged, and we're made to swallow everything that is dished out to us.
Maybe if there was some creativity and imagination around here,things would be different in every way. For one, I wouldn't have to stare at the black head in front of me in class, and nod earnestly at the gibberish spouted by the teacher, whilst I slip into a reverie far away from here. Secondly, eccentricity wouldn't be considered ludicrous, and idiosyncrasies would not be scorned upon with disgust.
Happy places can be found in books. But they don't realize that.
After all, we're just 21st century kids. The era of technology has transformed us into machines. Data is fed into us, and we process it. This, they call knowledge, education. Hypocrisy is omnipresent, they say. But to this extent?
And they call us sassy, not outspoken. Since when? One of the many ironies of life.

Nostalgia is possibly one of the worst form of emotional wierdness that a person can experience. It often comes in the form of a song that reminds of you of childhood days, when life seemed so simple. Of long car-drives with family, cruising down traffic-laden roads, of swimming lessons, of mangoes, of softy-ice-creams, of art-classes, of salsa, of Harry Potter, of video-games, of summer-vacations during school, of 9th-grade crushes, of going through the 'pink-phase', followed by the 'goth-phase', of unrealistic and unfulfilled dreams and ambitions, of conversations, of chocolate, of VH1, of MTV Most Wanted, of Aqua, and Britney Speares. It reminds you of black nail-polish, hair-streaking, of ankle-socks, of short-skirts, of school-bus rides, of school-bus friends, of canteen food, of school-bus food, of tiffin-boxes, of tupperware, of sharing lunch, of corn-puffs, of orange-ice cream, of sleeping in class, of bunking, of school assemblies, of school prayers, of drill, of the mall, of Javagreen, of granitas, of surprise cell-phone raids, of copying in exams, of cheat-sheets, of sports day, of annual day, of culturals, of debates, of ad-zap.
Life then, was so terribly simple. However did things get complicated. School was the one place where things were secure, at least for the time-being. Tensions included completing homework and wearing polished shoes. And then, things become complicated. There's more to it that pressed uniform and completed homework.
It's not that simple.
Which is why when you listen to a song that reminds you of Dexter's Laboratory and powerpuff girls an popeye, and the Little Lulu show, you wish you hadn't grown up so fast. You wish you'd stuck on as a kid, and ate candy for lunch, without counting calories. You wish you could read Enid Blyton unabashedly, and you could bunk school to watch cartoons. You wish you hadn't thrown such a big fuss over third-grade mathematics. if only you did those stupid sums then without the lamenting and the fuss.
And now, we're stuck. We miss growing up. We won't grow up again. We can't just bunk college and watch cartoons. We can't eat candy four times a day without getting fat. We can't watch Wizard of Oz. We can, maybe, but it's not the same. We can never understand the Wizard of Oz the way we did when we were kids. Now, it's just not the same. I can never watch Heidi (which used to be my most favorite cartoon back then), without distorting the childish memory I have, of dancing goats and a cute, chubby girl.
Life is unfair. Growing up should be slow. I think of all the times I'd hoped to be 'grown-up' as a kid. I'd hoped to wear high-heels and a suit, and carry a brief-case and look serious and important. And now, when it comes to doing that, I'd rather wear a smock and eat Twinkies and Doritos and watch Heidi on Cartoon Network.