बस एक बार वापस लौटने का मन करता है...

Sir Arthur C. Clarke, do you know how I really miss you right now. If only your idea of time travel had been materialized, I would have probably paid anything and almost everything to time travel back to June 2006. Five years have passed since then, physical distances have increased gigantically, from a couple of hundred meters to over a thousand miles, local calls have been replaced by STD calls. Yet the story remains the same. The hearts beat at the same frequency, the love blossoms as ever and the six letter word F.R.I.E.N.D.S. seems more precious than the gold stored at Fort Knox.

Life was so simple back then. Life was actually beautiful and carefree (of course without the alcohol and marijuana). All you cared was whether you would be reaching KNGH before 8.30 pm or whether even a single digit score in DE paper would get you a C grade. I miss those times when a two word SMS “Kahan ho?” used to bring a smile on my face. Yes, the people I loved and the people who loved me had just bunked their classes, waiting for me at our usual hangout place, The Nesci. There’s no way I was going to disappoint them. Damn, you GPA’s and gold medals, I wasn’t attending the remaining three lectures for there was and probably there is no one more precious than those “wild maniacs”.

Aata Maggi for a distinguished few, normal Maggi for the others were the staple diet. Lemon iced teas had replaced water/cold drinks as the official drink of the group and Nestle was probably the official sponsor. Sagar Ratna was common mess where the menu for one of the distinguished member was fixed, “Onion Rava Masala Dosa”. For the rest, the menu revolved around Veg Schzwan Noodles, Panner Tikki, Manchurian, Baby Corn, Varieties of Dosa, Dum Aaloo Kashmiri, Naan, Kulcha etc etc. We loved spilling stuff, someone was actually an expert in this field, we loved fighting for those green and red chutneys, we loved making noise, a lot of it actually, without caring for the stares and the occasional taunts from others sharing the space with us. In short, we loved everything about everything stupid we did and without caring a dime about what the world thought about us.

Birthdays were celebrated with more fervor and enthusiasm than the Republic and Independence Day celebrations of this great country. Rarely, you would see a group of people jumping and shouting around the birthday boy/girl. With your every move being scrutinized, you really felt like a celebrity on your special day just because of these people. Not a single day was spent without a ping on Google Talk or a short message on the cell phone. The group met almost everyday, barring the days when someone would have oiled their hair. Even during exams, everybody found a way for a regular meeting at the Nesci. After crying incessantly “Iss baar to main pakka fail ho jaaoongi”, you probably needed your group to provide the necessary words of confidence.

I just had a lousy birthday four days back. At 12 midnight, I was busy screwing around on some stupid excel sheets and powerpoint presentations. There were no cakes, no candles, none of the idiots jumping around me, no GPL’s and no one to smother a perfectly baked Black Forest cake on my face. In the eerie silence of the office, I just said “Happy Birthday” to myself remembering the idiots who made it special every year.

The railway crossing, the rigid guards, the stupid institute rules, the guitar jamming sessions at the Narayani, Uptron chauraha, the reunion outside the Patel Hostel on the pretext of having sugarcane juice and most importantly those times spent with you all can never be erased from the heart. Love you all.

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