JEE Results

Our
state engineering joint entrance results were announced today. It’s called West
Bengal Joint Entrance Examination (WBJEE). But let me first tell you how much
importance it has held for me.

I was pretty darned pissed off when in the first place it clashed
with another test I wanted to take. Thankfully, on the penultimate day,
questions were leaked and the joint was postponed. I sat for the other test.

We had a tour coming up after that, which most probably would
engulf the possible revised date.

Finally, it didn’t. Most unfortunately, because I had decided to
not take the test at all if it came to that. However, we would be returning
only a couple of days before the revised date, and there would be no time to
study.

We didn’t cancel the tour for that.

We returned, and I didn’t study a word in those two or three days.
There were my friends who had studied really, really hard (and I mean really,
really hard) for entire weeks before the first date and an entire month before
the second, and I was lazing on a couch watching TV.

I sat for the test, a thousandth time less nervous than those
around me, and those three hours were just spent realizing that I hadn’t
forgotten everything.

The days coming up to today, the day of the declaration of results,
were packed with anticipation and anxiety for my friends, and a lot of Dan
Brown and Chetan Bhagat for me.

Today, the results are out. I’ve ranked 468, while some of my
friends are in the thousands.

Although it’s not wise to extrapolate each important incident in
your life to deduce some general rule, yet, and especially because this wasn’t
important to me, I am enticed to declare the rule that:

‘1 unit less of
anxiety and nervousness during an examination equals about twenty units more of
studying.’

I guess I’m off to somewhere to study Physics now (you thought I’d
go for engineering? Pooh.), and in accordance to the rule above, I’m looking
for many more books to read and games to download to my phone. Then surely, in
some dazzling near future, I’ll be all over your newspapers and TV. You just
wait till that.

1Life.

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Recall

I had a dream
last night. (I don’t call it at 3 this
morning.
I prefer to call it last
night at 3.
) In that dream, I was in some type of hotel. That hotel had an
ancient little statue. It was a fat, stout old man’s statue. The statue had a
long thing in its hand. Most probably it was a whip. But its purpose was not
torture. The hotel people had told me once that that statue had been built
under the supervision of some old Indian sultan like Aurangzeb, and inside it
was a wonder of mechanical engineering. For the statue could dance about
exactly like a human being, some moves being very fast. It would jump and spin
its whip and perform complicated body movements very fast. I watched its
performance once more last night.

Now, the thing is, I’d been to that hotel before at another time
and had learnt about the statue and watched its performance. This was the
second stay at that hotel. I’m damn sure of that. Even in last night’s dream I
knew that I’d been there in an earlier dream, some other day.

However, now that I’m in wake mode, I realize that I haven’t ever
before recollected having dreamt of such a thing.

The question is then: did I really ever dream of it before last
night, or was that feeling woven into last night’s dream? Because I’ve often
felt just a feeling in dreams. Not vision, not touch or sound, just a feeling,
but as real as the senses. Perhaps even more efficiently real, because senses
are just a means to achieve an end. And that end is a feeling, a fact lodged in
your head. Although dreams are entirely feelings, feelings of sensory
stimulations without having sensory stimulations, there are some cases where
even that is absent, and you are not given a sensory feeling to deduce a fact. You
are just given that end fact without having to deduce it. This is how you
sometimes know things in dreams.

Or did I actually dream of it earlier, but in the same night? I’ve
learnt that people dream in intermittent bursts. I might have been thinking of
a previous burst. However, I can tell you that it distinctly felt like recalling
something that had happened a few days ago.

Or maybe I had really dreamt of it some other day, only couldn’t
recall it in wake mode. Instead, it came back in sleep mode. Who knows? (This
last one may not be a rhetorical question.)

This has happened to me many, many times before. Even in waking
moments, I sometimes come across stuff that rings a bell in there, but I can’t
recall when such a thing had happened before. Sometimes I realize that I’d seen
such a thing in a dream, and sometimes it’s just déjà vu.

1Life.

 

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Rambles Again

The
sunset as reflected from the glass panes of a building out that window always
looks magical. It’s always better than what the sunset really is like.

We realize that too late. Even then, we wonder if there wasn’t
anything at all behind what we saw in the glass windows.

Today, I’ve swallowed a seed. I cannot tell you what seed; I don’t
know what that fruit is called, and chancing a guess might be folly.

I am, of course, hoping it will pass without incident through the
entire course of my alimentary system and that I will meet it tomorrow morning.
I am hoping to be able to recognize it then.

Every now and then, I am gripped by a need to do something meaningful, constructive, rich, to fill
up time that would otherwise vacuously float past. But float it does, most of
the time. The bitch won’t stop for a moment for me to catch up and decide what
meaningful thing I could do next.

In the end, I think humankind has been a great misfortune to befall
this planet. I think I can already feel the seed in my abdomen. Anyway,
humankind. Yes, all the more pathetic because we had the brains. Even more pathetic because we brag about it
very frequently.

I’ve just been reading V for Vendetta. I guess that made me a
little bitter.

Are you reading this? Who are you? Do you know me? If you don’t,
will you, ever? Does that thought strike you anywhere?

When I start talking like this, you can tell that I have nothing
much else to write about.

And you’re right this time.

1Life.

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Rambles

I wish
we were in a world where you didn’t have to first do the tiresome job of
proving yourself in front of a whole horde of people who are inert gits
themselves before you were allowed to work in your own solitude and do
something useful and feel good about it.

I’m getting tired of the world here. I’m also wondering why people
aren’t complaining about the way it is. If individually there is an urge to see
it differently, why does the exact opposite show collectively?

Or is this all because everyone is too lazy to extend their
concerns too much and beyond a point, just accepts what the system gives them?
If that is so, it will be impossible to change anything that will stay changed
for ever. But the question is, where did the system come from? Is it just that
we, in passing, believe in the ghost of a system that has actually helped
create it in reality? Is it because we need something to complain about? Or is
it Level Zero again, that when something does
change and become different and better, we slowly come up with new sets of
things to complain about?

Don’t worry, you’re not supposed to understand any of this. If you
somehow are being able to, you are either misinterpreting or you are… well, not
misinterpreting. In which case, well, it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters.

Somehow, sometimes I get a peek into the feeling that this precious
life, drops of priceless time, it’s been a horrible waste. God, they don’t know
they aren’t coming back ever. Or maybe our heads are just too small to take it
all in.

All of this results in just a heavy feeling in the head. I think
too much.

I really didn’t want to tread this path. Now I’m down again. It’s
become difficult to get me up from there, over the past few years.

I’m sorry if this post didn’t give you anything. If always it was
about giving and getting, it would be a TV show, not real life. In real life
there’s a lot of waste and a lot of gaps and stupidity. And we’re always trying
our best to pretend that behind it all there surely is a brilliant glimmering
orb of something too beautiful to comprehend. Optimism. Yet, I actually do hope
there’s something like that. Or it
would be too vacant and stupid, too
much of a waste, really.

More later.

1Life.

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