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Sunday, December 17, 2006

Tales from a place called Diamond

Another semester is over and here I am at my computer wondering how much more boring life can get..
It was an insanely fast sem this..
Diamond (the hostel I stay in) saw a lot happen in the last five months or so.. A lot of PEACE.. A lot of fun.. All the mindless 'Kiran Torture' sessions it seems so far away now.. I for one still remember the first day at diamond.. All of us meeting after quite sometime.. Uncomfortably dusty rooms.. Moving in.. The top floor took on this very 'family' atmosphere in the weeks that followed.. And of course there were additions to this family.. Kiran for one.. And there were losses.. Kuttu.. Then came the visitors.. Boy.. Believe me when I say there were A LOT of these visitors.. Practically the whole hostel.. Or rather.. Those who found the time to come to the terrace to enjoy the view and the oh-so-sweet breeze that would captivate your mind.. It was only the few of us who got the 'privilege' to stay on the top floor.. I put privilege within quotes because this was (and is) a debatable issue..
Firstly the top floor doesn't have toilets..
Secondly, all those expectations of privacy (by virtue of the fact that there are only 5 rooms on the top floor) are lost as everyone.. And i mean it when i say EVERYONE visits the top floor in the most unearthly of hours..(not that we're exactly the earliest when it comes to hitting the sack..)
Then i must but mention the thing that almost everyone (except a birthday boy) would wait for.. BUMS!

Yes.. Birthday bums.. I'll rightly say.. This has evolved from being a session of friendly pats on the back to what it is today (a brutal event where one comes as close to his death as to his birthday.. Where one is mercilessly kicked, punched and has a filthy concoction of god-forbid-to-mention-what thrown upon)... And yet.. When it's someone's birthday, the once-victims entirely forget the as-close-to-hell-as-you-can-get treatment that they got.. And merrily join in the proceeds of somebody else's near death experience..

That said.. I can't help but not mention the ragging.. When we were in the first year, the Tamil Nadu quota (or the thambi quota as it was benignly called) never got ragged.. Or rather, we didn't have to, because the entire of our seniors' batch had boycotted.. This wasn't the case, however, with our NRI friends.. They experienced (and we witnessed), what I'd (again) rightly call, the most brutal form of ragging, and now it was their turn.. But sad as it is.. The junior batch turned out to be a bunch of disappointments.. Nobody would face ragging as consistently as my batch mates.. Nobody would carry on the gift of ragging.. Sometimes i wish that i was ragged.. But that wouldn't be necessary, as my nri friends were only kind enough as to share their take with us.. I learned a significant bit from those tales of woe.. And that's when i felt left out having not experienced it first hand..

Then i must appropriately mention all those hours spent at the computer playing nfs most wanted.. It reached clan proportions..(ok.. I'm exaggerating) but it did consume a significant part of our time at diamond.. As our grades would reflect.. Speaking about which.. Our results aren't out at the time of writing this blog.. But really.. The bulk of us aren't too bothered about them.. They'll come out when they have to.. And if some of the results are disappointing, i'm sure we can all go back to diamond.. And the family will take care of it's problems...
(and closing with a very cliched orkut profile name..)
Diamond beckons!!

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