Prancing back to the hostel premises from the summer vacations with expectations and hopes of renewed assurances, the ladies of NITR were presented with a scenario tinted with dark humour, if you may. The brand new amendments to the rules for entering into their abode in the late hours of the evening had scaled a new level of strictness, and incredulity.
“Just a little left….”
I said out loud in my mind, holding my camera. I wanted to capture the little girl with her hair braided into two symmetrical halves tied with white ribbons, donning the blue and white salwaar kameez and looking straight at the NCC cadets who were perfecting their march past, minutes before the flag hoisting ceremony. She eventually turned left and I got my shot (not perfect, but pretty much the way I had wanted). That moment when light captured her emotions on the screen of my digital camera, a wave of realizations gushed through me. A quick streaming through the memory lane brought out some subtle incompetence that I thought was wonted with such complacence.
Of the innumerable evangelistic preaching that Arvind Kejriwal has given this country, there was that one prophecy that certainly appealed to almost all the citizens irrespective of their political inclinations. No. It is not the “Holier than Thou” ideology that I am talking about.
The NITR Junta was promised a very high rate of improvement in the hostel mess & of course the night canteen, the essence of survival of most of the inmates. Now, it is time to get down to reality & understand the problems the boarders are facing after the oh-so enjoyable vacations. As you move your eyes through the upcoming lines, you will definitely get a sneak-peek into the mess & night canteen arrangement in halls.
July. A month spent in transition from the first half of the year to the next. When lives undergo multitudinous changes. A change, that years later, as Robert Frost cites in “The Road Not Taken”, will be reflected at with a ‘sigh’, introspecting on the ‘difference’ created by walking down a road, a change in this case. Time and tide wait for none. Every year, a batch gets promoted. Some get promoted to alumni. Some to sophomores, the new seniors. A rush of emotions follow through at this time. Expectations weigh down on you and hang around you like the Grim Reaper’s eternal axe.