Receptionist (to the girl): So mam, you are…
Lady: Deepika Padukone.
Receptionist (to himself: what fart name): Would you prefer a corner room?
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When I am in the mood to talk and listen, I can win anyone’s heart.
When I am not in the mood, I am an ass.
Fuck me, I need fresh air.
My parents will reach Chennai on Saturday morning. And I am psyched. Suddenly I feel like they are intruding a life that had been so separate from them. At home, I am someone else. Here, at IIT I am someone totally different. Neither my mom, nor my dad has ever been to IIT Madras. In my first year, when I had first come to this place, I had come alone. During the course of time, people came. People left. I still am alone. Fuck me. I need fresh air.
Tonight, I will leave for Bangalore. Tomorrow I will be in IIM Bangalore. The business school has its culfest on. IIT Madras is participating in the dramatics event. The play is an edited version of Glengarry Glen Ross. I play a cop Baylen, who has like less than fifty words to speak, and is seen on the stage for like 5 of the 50 minutes that the play runs, but that’s okay. I didn’t get into the team because I was looking forward to display my talent as an actor. I got into the team because I like the team. It has some of the best actors insti has, and it’s always a pleasure to see them crack the characters on stage.
Had my parents not been coming on early Saturday morning, I would have loved to spend my weekend in Bangalore. But now, the only thing that I hope for is, I reach Chennai Central from Bangalore before them. If I am late, I am screwed.
Fuck me. I need fresh air.
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Nano is going to fuck the roads.
Make’em big. Make more roads.
That needs time. That needs money. Those who can build the roads, or widen the existing one might have the money to do so, but they still need time to do what you are asking for. Roads don’t just grow big like that, in a snap. You have to work your ass off to get the job done. The fact is, at times, even if you work your ass off, or for that matter, every part of your body off, you just can’t get the job done. Because, there just isn’t space around. We are talking about cities overcrowded by structures made out of cement and steel and concrete. The roads are already as wide as they can be, most of the times at least. Make’em big? Make more roads? Is it all you could say?
All I know is that Nano is coming. The sales will soon start and you will see them everywhere. And then Bajaj will launch its own version. Soon most companies will.
That sounds like a gang bang.
It sure is one.
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Now that the Vatsap? is finally up after a long gap, I feel like celebrating. I missed it badly all this while. Today I feel so much complete.
When do you know you love doing something?
When doing that thing makes you feel complete.
When do you know you love someone?
When doing that someone… oops…
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All I can say is that it was pretty easy for me to do the holding-tears-in-the-eye scene because someone was too busy that day. The short film that you see here was made by one of the two teams from IITM who had qualified for Saarang 2008 SFM competition.
Assuming that the video above will take quite some time to stream fully, let me write enough so that you, my dear reader, won’t have to yawn. Let me call everything that follows henceforth, an essay on Saarang, the cultural phestival of IIT Madras (I know you guys were waiting for that e’ph’ect 
).
Like everyone else the Saarang that excited me most happened in my first year. It was a whole new world. I didn’t know so many girls who could wear good clothes (irrespective of how they looked) even existed in the Tam capital. I vividly remember getting close to a girl from outside insti on my very first day (or was it the second?). Hell, I even remember what I was wearing that day: a loose sky blue color Saarang Tshirt and looser dark blue shorts. Naah, I am not really sure what the girl was wearing, but I am sure she looked good.
Yes, she had indeed looked good. I had looked into her eyes and she had looked into mine; for quite some time, believe me. My right palm had rested on her left and my left palm had rested on her right, all the four palms being in the direction vertical to the ground, covered by dusty red carpet. It wasn’t just the two of us doing that eye-into-eye and palm-on-palm business. There were many more pairs. And before you conclude that it was a dance workshop, let me tell you that it was not. In fact I never ever asked any girl out for a dance workshop in any of the Saarangs. That’s another story and I will come to it later. Let me finish this story first.
So, yeah, there were many other pairs around us, doing something similar to what we were doing. Not of all of them were the girl-boy couple though. Most were men-men and if I remember it right, there were few girl-girl couples too. It was a theater workshop being conducted by Karthik from Evam. Karthik! Back then I was utterly impressed by this guy. The way he spoke, the way he looked, the way girls listened to him speak, everything captivated me. I guess I am drifting away from the main story (much to the delight of those perverted fellows who get turned on by stories throwing bisexual hints), and therefore I will stop describing what I felt for Karthik by concluding my feelings in the follwing fashion: that day, I had wished I could be someone like him.
One of the exercises that we were asked to do required the pair to imagine an imaginary plain mirror between them and treat the team-mate as your reflection. So of course when I touched the mirror with my palm, I actually touched her palm. And of course, when I was looking at my imaginary reflection in the imaginary mirror, I was actually looking into her eyes. So, now you see, why and how I got close to my first Saarang girl! 
Not bad, was it? Of course, I wonder why I never tried to kiss myself that day!
Okay, if the video has already streamed fully, I would suggest you watch it first and then read the rest of Vatsap’s Saarang masaala. If it hasn’t, keep reading.
I do not remember much about the Saarang that took place in my second year except that I made cash. A third in sketching gave me 750/2 (the prize was split between two because there were two third prizes). Also a first in painting gave me 1.5k. No wait, besides the money that I made, I also remember becoming a security volunteer that year and all the frisking that I did besides of course sporting a stupid orange cap during all the pro-shows.
In their second year, all IITians realize that Saarang is the same every year. The only real change that takes place, takes place in the professional shows. My first year had seen Udit Narayan while the second year saw KK.
My third Saarang changed my life and I will not talk about it. It’s a story I cannot share. All I can say is that it was the beginning of something exceptionally beautiful which was bound to be snatched away from me. Just that I never knew that the snatching-away would ironically take place exactly a year later in the next Saarang.
The fourth Saarang was a tragedy. I was at Saarang just for the first day before I left for Delhi to attend an old friend’s wedding. I came back only to realize that certain things had changed. Forever.
Saarang 2008. Ended yesterday. Every day had a story of its own. I think it deserves a post of its own. I also think, that if the video has still not streamed, screw your internet connection.
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