From the jubilant days of flouting every norm to the days of being suffocated to follow every norm unheard of, is proving quite a nemesis for me and, I guess, my classmates are not too far from this sordid, outrageous feeling.
The orientation session, on the very first day of scheduled three days, reminded me of my olden-golden days of graduation, where being in time was a self-satire. But that was not to be here for very long, thanks to Obaid Sir. I swear, being late by half an hour was not a big deal few months back, rather it signified busy-ness and added to your portfolio of being something. Something similar to brave and smart. But the very first day of my class in AJK MCRC at JMI established the fact that 9.30 means atleast 9.25. As I entered the class room, I heard a voice, “You are late”. It was 9.30 only.
Enthusiasm of introducing Neyaz Ahmad Farooquee came down to Neyaz. Only Neyaz. And Jamia Millia Islamia to just Jamia. Hunt for humour in daily dose of introduction session turned wild to an extent so as to grab the attention of everyone’s yawn.
The every task which I thought would be entertaining was turning out to be boring till one day someone called Ramesh Menon appeared. And then I realised that something which I liked, something adventurous, is about to come and in its anticipation everything was looking boring to me. And these ongoing onslaughts of boredom would be the basis for a joyful future.
Now, twisting the neck diametrically to look forward.
Dayare Shauk Mera Dayare Shauk Mera...
Shahre Aarzoo Mera Shahre Aarzoo Mera
