Frustooo...

I guess everyone adopts “frustration” as their middle name when they enter our college. But I never realized the humorous appeal of the entire situation until recently I discovered that the levels of frustration had actually reached comic levels.
Now, they all have their own different and very valid reasons for feeling messed up in life; but it’s actually amusing to see what frustration can make people do. The other day this friend was sitting in my room beating a mixture of coffee powder and sugar like it was all the mug’s fault it wasn’t breaking under the impact of her beating (and I must say I was surprised the mug didn’t actually break). This intimidating action was accompanied by a series of growls and yelps, which could have sent all the street dogs into hiding out of shame if not fear. A little snooping revealed that the fact that all her friends were very busy with their respective projects and extra-curriculars, while she was up to nothing constructive in life irked her.
Change of scene, I enter another friend’s room and start playing on her cell phone like I always do. And as always, I was busy beating my high scores, but for some reason she got all worked at my playing on the phone all the time. Also for some inexplicable reason, I burst out laughing at her and there began all the whimpering about having so much to do and being stuck at such a rotten place (which I agree with wholeheartedly!).
When I move about in the corridors, I come across this bunch of perpetually jobless people who never have more than 2 classes a day; and are bored to frustration, having nothing to do in life.
And finally, since I haven’t touched upon my own levels of frustration here, I’ll be fair enough to add that some people get frustrated when I find their frustration comic and laugh, needless to say, they don’t get too many opportunities to do the same ;-D

Staring into space...

I don't know if this is more about staring into space or more about what muzic means to me. It just happens ever so often that sitting in one place with my headphones on and doing nothing gives me immense pleasure; and I can never tell when the minutes pass into hours...
Music has that power to unleash a flood of memories and thoughts which can keep my brain occupied for hours at a stretch.Yet it slips into the background almost effortlessly when I'm busy with something else, and has become a prerequisite for doing anything now.
Just the other day I spent an hour staring at the pouring rains and the greenery outside, courtesy my unwillingness to move away from the World Space station. There's no feeling better than sitting on the terrace, gathering your thoughts as they pour in nudged on by the melodies.I guess everyone needs some time in undisturbed peace, to discover how chaotic human conversation becomes at times. It's as if there's a huge void left to filled only by silence entwined with music, and the chaos just keeps widening the gaping void till we start feeling empty inside.

Packing :((

Well, well, what do I say? Not that I know half of the world or something, but the fact that a remarkable majority of the people I know hate packing just reinforces the feeling that I’m normal :D

Now as it happens, our parents always want us kids to be proficient in skills we never deem worthy of knowing in our wildest thoughts, forget mastering them. But every pleasurable trip made to and from home, brings along the agonizing task of packing (or should I call it dumping) all my belongings into bags which are perpetually too small to fit in everything, and almost never light enough to be carried around comfortably. And then ultimatums like “this time you have to do your packing on your own” are just so comforting, they almost want me to take 5 cartons throw everything I need inside and send them by cargo...

But that is easier said than done(as most things in life are) because sadly even on the last day of first year, when I had the satisfaction of having 5 cartons at my disposal, I didn’t have the pleasure of getting them cargoed. Talk about it, I had to lug them all the way down the passage and back again when Mr. Watchman couldn’t find the keys...

The entire process of emptying one’s room is comical in retrospect; although that is one thing I never want to go through again in my life... The last day in my room, was the exact description of a civilized place hit by a cyclone, where dogs, spiders, and a gazillion unidentifiable insects took liberty to keep you company as you rummage through nooks and corners you never knew existed. It becomes more of an ordeal when you have to pack for two people, one of which hasn’t been living in the room for more than 6 months... The spider webs in her cupboard almost reminded me of King Kong’s spiders. And it does far from help your spirit, when a scorpion has been found in your room just a few days before :(

So basically how I got through the ordeal was with the help of a senior and dear friend, who did half of the packing while she was around for a coupla hours. And then did another 25% after a break the poor thing deserved. So I spent my entire energy just doing 25% of my packing, watching her in amazement when she was working, and wondering what to do when she wasn’t there.Now that my holidays are sadly nearing an end, once again I’m faced with the grim prospect of dumping my stuff into two undersized bags, which deceptively look light even after they’re filled till I’m scared either the stuff will spill because the bag will burst open, or it will spill out because I’ll collapse under their weight and they’ll snap open. I have given up all hopes of making such despicable endeavors successful, so I just hope I’m able to complete my job, so I can catch my train in time...