Snigdha

It is very soothing when amidst a vast expanse of heartlessness you find someone who listens. They don't talk or give you any miracle advice, or point out your follies. All they do is listen. And understand. Make life easy. This is in the memory of such a friend.

I had first met her in college. In the dark labyrinth of the floor above the chapel, there she was. Snigdha. For all things nice and beautiful. For peace and love. And comfort. Often I felt like sleeping on the couch in her room. To me, her room held the promise of a world where all the dark fears would be banished by her radiance. 

When I talked to her, hours slipped by. She rarely interrupted, only punctuating the conversation with an occasional nod or a half-smile. Something in her eyes told me she could feel it all. Sometimes I wondered if I could see a drop glistening in her eyes. Sometimes I wondered how could she could see right through me, empathise so much.

In the final year, I was very busy. I let go of the habit of going to the chapel. Or climbing up the stairs to her room. Then one day I did. She wasn't there. Her husband had been fighting cancer, and he couldn't keep it up. She loved him too much. I knew nothing of this. At a time when I was moving on, she must've been struggling. At a time when she listened to me, she must've wanted to talk too. I called at her number after that. I don't why. The phone just kept ringing.

I wonder if she ever thought of me. If during those days she wanted to reach out to me. Or maybe I was just another needy kid. The feeling that I get when I think of her is a strange mix of peace and grief. Of knowing that she was there. And that she'll still be.

Bliss

I was recently having a conversation with a friend about alternate means of getting high (apart from booze, that is). Both of us agreed dancing was one, especially to the tune of loud music. It didn't take me long to figure out another one.

IIT campus is usually brimming with activities, my friend tells me. All you need to do is to be on the lookout. And it is totally worth it - as I discovered last Saturday. A random walk through the premises led me to a live performance by Rekha Bhardwaj. I'm a huge fan of her's, so it was nothing short of a jackpot.

'You seem speechless', my friend remarked post-event. I had just been mumbling in response to his questions. At that moment, I was too much in a state of drunkenness to be able to explain to him that what he had missed was absolute bliss. The performance had begun with invocation to allah (during which the musicians sound-checked), followed by her masterpiece 'Tere Ishq Mein'. The track itself gives me goosebumps each time I listen to it - to witness a live performance by her was altogether a different experience! I could feel the energy to run a thousand miles without pausing once to catch my breath. Or sky-dive from the tallest building. Or just jump in a pool of water (did I tell you I don't know how to swim?) I guess this qualifies for a 'high'.

It wasn't only a factor of her soothing voice or the soulful music. The team was actually enjoying the performance themselves - if you were attentive enough, you could see musicians exchanges glances that said "Isn't she totally great?". At other times you could hear the notes from the drums tease those of the piano.

I think that's where the real magic came from. It connected the audience to the performer. Even among the crowd of hundreds, I could sense a solidarity. I guess that came from the years they must've spend with each other on IIT campus, away from home. I felt special to be a part of such a closely-knit group. In fact at one point I felt I was the solitary audience to the performance. Like there was a strong bond by which I was connected to them, firmly. Right then, nothing else mattered - people laughing and sharing private jokes or those hurrying out towards the end.

Personally, I had no regrets about the missed dinner. Time had paused.

A different world

I've always fancied staying on a huge, sprawling campus. To me, it feels like a world in itself, somewhat cut-off from the rest. That part of it appeals to me for some unknown reason. Unfortunately, I never had the privilege to. Graduation college was okay, but post grad college was disappointing. Had I seen it before applying, I would've definitely reconsidered. It was beautiful, though.

Coming back to the point, this post is not to crib about what I've missed, but to appreciate what I'm experiencing right now. I'm staying on IIT campus for a project, and I'm loving it. It's been two days, and I'm looking ahead to exploring the vast expanse. I like the striking contrast of crudeness and sophistication that the campus has to offer. Buildings with modern infrastructure scattered in an area with desert-like vegetation, peacocks wandering on the roads inhabited by motor vehicles, new-design manually driven rickshaws - all this has the charm of a different world for me.

My room is no less than a heat chamber. Hats off to those who stay in those rooms for four years! Coolers are not an option, considering IIT's issues with water and electricity. But to make up for this are the late-night walks with a few friends I have made there. Even Delhi heat cannot sap the energy that I feel within me, because of the environment. To me, it means peace and solace.

Hoping that this stint energizes me creatively as well!