In Memoriam


It was exactly one year ago that I decided to give blogging a shot. Sadly, I wouldn’t even have remembered had it not been for WordPress’s proclivity for unexpected notifications. It had all started with a book review, followed by 10 months of inactivity and the recent reinvigoration of the will and desire to write. It would thus have been fitting if I had decided to celebrate my blogging anniversary with a review of another book, by a criminally underappreciated author- A Suitable Boy, by Vikram Seth. But I don’t yet find myself in a position to do justice to a book, which took its author seven years to write.

I started this blog with a resolve to keep things as objective and impersonal, as possible. What follows is a celebration of the anniversary of my inability to do so.


Redundant would it be to speak,

About the joys of first year,

Much akin to getting excited at,

4chan’s predictions for the season,

Every single time.

Vast is the reservoir of memories,

Albeit occasionally tarnished by inaccuracies.


Second year was the year for me,

At least by the dismal standards of the first.

Unparalleled, unrivalled in its shenanigans,

Mockery and coerced uselessness.

You would have barely believed my words,

Only if you’d seen me on the previous August the 1st.

Glancing casually into the strangers’ rooms with whom,

I was supposed to spend a year, if not more.


My roommate was the only solace,

I knew him, at least, or so I thought.

Languid were the days in RM-2128,

Every day a struggle, every interaction a pain,

Sleep was the only reprieve from conversations as profane.

Jovialness soon won me over, though,

Apprehensions were dismissed,

Insipidity gave way, as on everyone else we dissed.



Keeping a lid on our issues with each other,

Undeterred, we revelled in the ‘togetherness’.

No topic went unnoticed, as we went about,

Deigning, feigning, complaining and maiming.

Ram Bhawan had suddenly come alive,

And we’d found our way to survive.


Prattling on about the miseries of life,

Realizing that we were all in the same boat;

I guess, that’s what had us hooked.

Never did the thought,

Cross our minds that,

Eventually we’d have to part.


But we were too busy making merry and money,

On Chegg, and avenues plentiful.

Nothing beats the satisfaction of

Giving that first lesson to students like Chhote with

Just the right mix of willingness and circumspection.

All his nervousness is now down the drain

Indeed, he sets the bar higher each day,

No man can him from his routine any longer sway.


Birthdays were never more painful, yet more fun.

Lazing about, watching Yogi in full swing,

Appreciation for Solar Energy very evident,

Callously listening to Lahoty go on and waiting for him to

Kick up a storm.

Pigs were never more creative

Idiotically prone for theatrics, at that,

Game for dropping out of courses, degrees.

Going for strolls at unearthly hours,

Yet obsessed with closing doors.


Traveller became an emotion for us, somewhere along the way.

Haryana our favourite state, minus the people.

And summons to Krishna Hotel were never more authentic.

No, we weren’t immune to stupidity,

Demonstrated by our frequent tussles and ‘fights’.

Throw in an election, and it was almost a war,

Losing people was okay, losing votes wasn’t.

It seemed that things wouldn’t be the same.


Very soon though, it was all over and

Peace had returned to the wing,

Despite our fears, only to find that,

Gone had the days and that

Lo, and behold, the ‘wing’ had run its course,

Only for us to look back fondly on days which were,

Neither the greatest, nor the finest, but which had

Given us all something to hold on to, forever.

Saini insisted.



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