Another month missing in the archives. I guess I'm getting bored of writing about college. The fourth semester started last month, and I soon found myself in pretty much the same situation I was in the first semester - lots of record work and I haven't even started.
I still don't stay at the hostel during weekends, which are Sunday and Monday now. I can't bear to stay away from my home, my computer, the large part of my music collection which isn't on my mp3 player, real broadband, and a bug-free environment. Well, at least partially bug-free. But then things start to happen, things which can screw your weekend.
The Tuesday that's coming up is more or less a holiday, thanks to intra-college culturals. I was planning to stay at home, and thus enjoy a 3 day weekend. My plans jumped out the window when the associate editor (and one of my few good friends at the hostel) of the hostel's magazine told me that the second issue is due next week, so I'm supposed to stay at the hostel for the weekend and finish my duties as layout and cover page designer. After a lot of coaxing, I managed to convince him that I'd work better at home since I have the necessary software there. The weekend seemed safe.
The next day, the same friend tells me that there's a short film competition being held by Anna University. I was initially enthusiastic about it; we and a few others were throwing around several ideas, and before going to bed, we had a basic idea. Then came the problem of turning it into a film - no one had a video camera that wasn't in another state, other than me. We're supposed to submit the film on/before the first of March. They wanted to shoot the film on Monday and Tuesday. That meant I had to go home, get the camera, and get back long before my weekend gets over. So here I am, at home, making the most of my only day away from the hostel this week. And I still haven't started on the magazine.
Sunday, February 26, 2006
Friday, December 30, 2005
And they're over.
Thanks to some heavily flooded cities and cyclones which couldn't make up their minds, every exam I had remaining got postponed by three weeks. One by one, at that. So, instead of finishing up on the 7th of December, they got over only a couple of days back. Yes, they saw it fit to schedule exams during the season to be happy. I had exams before and after Christmas day. And I was stuck in the hostel all this while. No, I don't know why I always say "stuck" in the hostel. Anyway, being in the hostel = lousy/rare internet connectivity. But I got to play(occasionally) and watch NFS Most Wanted and Prince Of Persia: The Two Thrones, something I can't do with the old GeForce 2 MX card at home. Well, not Prince Of Persia anyway. Now I'm back home. And I just realised that I can't write like J.D. Salinger. Crap.
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
Five hours of studying.
Or something around that. Seventy-two friggin hours they gave me and I spent only five of them on studying. Three of them in half-hour intervals. Throughout the cold and rainy night. Two of them in the morning and on the bus. And I felt extreme joy after writing the exam. Why? No, I haven't aced it. I expect the result to be a bit below average even. But I actually found the damn thing interesting. Too late, though. I'm happy I did reasonably well for the amount of effort I put into it. So long, DPSD.
Sunday, November 20, 2005
Oh well, what the hell.
I should be in the hostel right now. I should've stayed back after finishing my exam yesterday, which, by the way, was terribly good for a change. But I didn't. I just came back home. For reasons beyond me, my body just didn't listen to my brain. So here I am, blogging when I should be studying, despite vowing not to do so. A couple of days left before my next exam, and I hope to stay back at the hostel at least then. Maybe.
Friday, October 28, 2005
Out of the flood, into the fire and back into the flood.
That was pretty much what happened on what was supposed to be the day of my last practical exam, 27th October.
It's 7 A.M., and I'm all set to leave for college, a bit disgruntled because the weather is too darn cold and rainy to write an exam. It's been raining all night, and there's news of a cyclone coming through. I look out the window, to see people wading through knee deep water, thanks to all the flooding. I'll have to do the same soon. I get out of the house and see the college bus leaving without me. Trying hard to run, I manage to get hold of the side of the bus... But I slip. SPLASH! I'm floating in the flood, with only my head above the water. The bus stops, I get on, thankful that no one was around to see me, other than the bus driver. But he was busy talking to himself, cribbing. He wasn't in the mood to go to college either.
I take a seat, still dripping and reeking. I take out my mobile phone, only to find it knocked out dead by the water. Sighing, I try to concentrate on the task at hand; studying whatever I can for the exam before reaching college.
An hour later, the bus is about a kilometer from where it started. Why? Because every road the driver tried to take was either blocked by fallen trees or too flooded for vehicles to pass through. The guy finally finds a way, and we're off to college, which is about 45-50 kilometers from the city.
I start getting tense, for I was going to be terribly late for an exam I wasn't confident enough about. So the "fire". I was actually sweating. Either that or I was getting confused between rainwater and sweat.
There were four other guys in the bus, who got on at later stops. One of them managed to contact the transport convener, who also happened to be a lecturer from my department. Exam postponed. When we were in the middle of nowhere. And the driver had to go elsewhere, so we were dropped off in the same place.
Still raining, but the roads were clear. A bus ride later, I was at a place bustling with activity. Lots of buses and autorickshaws. But none would dare go to Mylapore (where I reside), for it was mightily flooded there. I settled for a bus which dropped me of at a place about 20 minutes by walk from mine. I look up, and see that the water level has risen considerably; it reached the hip. I stumbled, slipped, screamed in agony, and reached home after what seemed like eternity.
And that's how you write a post devoid of any kind of entertainment. It happens when you've been through what I've been through that day.
The practical exam has been postponed to the 14th of November, which is just a few days before my theory exams start.
It's 7 A.M., and I'm all set to leave for college, a bit disgruntled because the weather is too darn cold and rainy to write an exam. It's been raining all night, and there's news of a cyclone coming through. I look out the window, to see people wading through knee deep water, thanks to all the flooding. I'll have to do the same soon. I get out of the house and see the college bus leaving without me. Trying hard to run, I manage to get hold of the side of the bus... But I slip. SPLASH! I'm floating in the flood, with only my head above the water. The bus stops, I get on, thankful that no one was around to see me, other than the bus driver. But he was busy talking to himself, cribbing. He wasn't in the mood to go to college either.
I take a seat, still dripping and reeking. I take out my mobile phone, only to find it knocked out dead by the water. Sighing, I try to concentrate on the task at hand; studying whatever I can for the exam before reaching college.
An hour later, the bus is about a kilometer from where it started. Why? Because every road the driver tried to take was either blocked by fallen trees or too flooded for vehicles to pass through. The guy finally finds a way, and we're off to college, which is about 45-50 kilometers from the city.
I start getting tense, for I was going to be terribly late for an exam I wasn't confident enough about. So the "fire". I was actually sweating. Either that or I was getting confused between rainwater and sweat.
There were four other guys in the bus, who got on at later stops. One of them managed to contact the transport convener, who also happened to be a lecturer from my department. Exam postponed. When we were in the middle of nowhere. And the driver had to go elsewhere, so we were dropped off in the same place.
Still raining, but the roads were clear. A bus ride later, I was at a place bustling with activity. Lots of buses and autorickshaws. But none would dare go to Mylapore (where I reside), for it was mightily flooded there. I settled for a bus which dropped me of at a place about 20 minutes by walk from mine. I look up, and see that the water level has risen considerably; it reached the hip. I stumbled, slipped, screamed in agony, and reached home after what seemed like eternity.
And that's how you write a post devoid of any kind of entertainment. It happens when you've been through what I've been through that day.
The practical exam has been postponed to the 14th of November, which is just a few days before my theory exams start.
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
A Quest For Pepsi
Yet another weekend, yet another journey back home. But this time, it's different. I don't take the stinking college bus. Mr. T was kind enough to give me a lift; he was headed in my direction. Right now, I can't be arsed into explaining why he was headed in my direction. Or why he doesn't take the college bus. Right, then...
It so happened that we both were in need of Pepsi, and it so happened that we couldn't find a place which was selling some, because it so happened that we were not looking in the right places, for it so happened that we were taking the wrong roads.
The general idea was to get me as close to my home as possible, I think, and so we stopped at this place called "Spencer's Plaza", something similar to Macy's, (or Forum if you've been to Bangalore. Or Burjuman Center, if you've been to Dubai) but much smaller and uglier. Being bright chaps, we knew they had Pepsi. And as predictable as ever, there was a problem. We were on the other side of the place, and separating us from it were two big roads, and cars. Moving ones. At high speeds too. Not to mention lorries. (Juvenile Delinquent got run over by one recently. But he seems to be alright now.)
We had no choice but to walk around the roads. To get to the other side directly would have taken 30 seconds, but there was no way to cross them. Walking around, it took us 10 minutes. And the Pepsi was the diluted kind. No fizz, no taste, not even cold, and a few bucks more than usual. But it was alright. What wasn't alright was this - On the way back to his car, taking the same 10 minute route around the huge traffic-stricken roads, we spotted something we hadn't before. A shop selling cheaper, colder and fizzier Pepsi. To quote Morpheus - fate, it seems, is not without a sense of irony.
It so happened that we both were in need of Pepsi, and it so happened that we couldn't find a place which was selling some, because it so happened that we were not looking in the right places, for it so happened that we were taking the wrong roads.
The general idea was to get me as close to my home as possible, I think, and so we stopped at this place called "Spencer's Plaza", something similar to Macy's, (or Forum if you've been to Bangalore. Or Burjuman Center, if you've been to Dubai) but much smaller and uglier. Being bright chaps, we knew they had Pepsi. And as predictable as ever, there was a problem. We were on the other side of the place, and separating us from it were two big roads, and cars. Moving ones. At high speeds too. Not to mention lorries. (Juvenile Delinquent got run over by one recently. But he seems to be alright now.)
We had no choice but to walk around the roads. To get to the other side directly would have taken 30 seconds, but there was no way to cross them. Walking around, it took us 10 minutes. And the Pepsi was the diluted kind. No fizz, no taste, not even cold, and a few bucks more than usual. But it was alright. What wasn't alright was this - On the way back to his car, taking the same 10 minute route around the huge traffic-stricken roads, we spotted something we hadn't before. A shop selling cheaper, colder and fizzier Pepsi. To quote Morpheus - fate, it seems, is not without a sense of irony.
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