Mandatory

I thought I shouldn’t begin the new year with a rant, but what the hell, it helps sometimes.

I’ve figured what the problem is/was (Yes, I’ve finally graduated. I now have a PGDM and my convocation is done too, this post was sleeping in drafts from early this year) at college. My college life. It’s just too much of it. I’ve had it. I’m done with it.

I’m done with all the hostel life one can cherish for four hundred and sixty lives yet to strike this planet, click pictures of food and upload it up on instagram, build a start-up, become rich, write a book and the many more thousand and eight expectations that can be set by any conglomerate education system and motivated by a proud family. Especially if you are a PG it’s like “oh dude, just enough of this already” *cries*

I’m done with all the mindless drinking through endless nights, talking mindless and endless shit with the worst part being, having to put up with all that mindless shit, and clean all the shit (Lays american cream onion chips packets and half-opened and half-attended aloo bhujia ones because let’s face it, no one can eat just one) that gets littered around mindlessly, the next day. Enough.

In many ways, if you have been a hostel being, things don’t change much from UG to PG. There are the same premature beards vomiting premature thoughts with premature bravado, only difference in PG being the overgrown beards (manly things) vomiting overgrown thoughts (ego) coming out with overdone (excessive learning and rationalization begins) bravado. It’s like  until we permanently turn silent, we never learn the importance of silence.

We want to recreate experiences, the same people who we made friends by addressing them as sister/mother fuckers, the same visualization in winamp, the same South Park joke, the same old Akshay Kumar song we cherish because we listened to it when pappa and mamma took us to Shimla (because, you know, we need to keep reminding ourselves that we are Indians, especially when we are drunk- we drink responsibly) and the same Led Zeppelin song when you are hopelessly slurring and somehow the purpose of drinking is to make sure you keep establishing the fact that you are never, ever, god-Sachin forbid drunk, yes, but sooner or later you get to know the act behind all of it. During the initial months of UG, there is this Spring Breakers moment (watch the film, its hilarious in more ways than one) which makes you think oh this is where we were supposed to find ourselves or some crap? Well, guess what, things don’t stay poetic any more.

Dudes just start getting weirder and weirder. Everyone has got to do their drinking bit, talking loud and talking out of their ass.People are just the fucking same and we all end up trying to act nice about it. You know, the marriage-hungry women in rom-coms keep coyly saying, “men are funny, aren’t they?” whenever someone acts like a doofus?, nope, it isn’t. It’s not funny when 85% of conversations don’t sustain without a Honey Singh song in the background punctuated by Sunny Leone’s tits suffocating in something very unhealthily tight on a cum-stained Lenovo screen and believe it or not, I’m supposed to be genuinely interested if not entertained in such subject matters (without focussing on the cum-stain, because hey, that’s how cool we are bro) to be rechristened daily as a boy-man/man-boy. Yes, we boys need reaffirmation everyday, in some 5-6 inch measure at least and if you resist to involve yourself in those matters with a perspective/opinion/taste you are first thought of as a kill joy, then a sophisticated punkster who just isn’t desi enough (yes, that’s a crime) and then finally a faker/wanker (not necessarily in that order).

I feel 722 years old and all the unsaid, unassailable and untarnished rancour has begun to creep and stand taller than ever in front of me, limiting my self into an ever-diminishing dot. There is no personality any more. No act. I totally dig Imitiaz Ali for saying, “I’ve always been interested in women. I find them/expect them to be more intelligent”. I get that. Ofc, expectationsaresubjecttosubjectsrisks.

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