B.R.A.I.Ns- Lost in Transition??

Here is a diary excerpt from the days when I joined GEC. I was just glancing through my old entries and found this worth putting up. Execuse the vocabulary. These entries were enerally written in night (about 2 A.M.). So here it goes....
""
Its been some days since the last time I wrote anything here.. I'll try to brIefly explaIn what all happened In the last four months of my college lIfe:

I joIned the college on 9th october,06.As Is my character I made some frIends on the very fIrst day Itself. Jeevan was my fIrst mate here. He Is a nIce dude wIth good attItude.I dont have much to say about hIm as he left the college soon to pursue hIs Interests as a commercIal pIlot.Soon I met wIth Rahul and Arun RushdIe tallest IndIvIduals of my class who shared common frequency of thought and thInkIng as me. They had become my good company tIll the cultural fest of the college began-Confluence 06. These two were partIcIpatIng In a dance and they made new frIends whIle the practIce sessIons were goIng on.The brIef perIod of solItude.That was when I had close encounters wIth the thIrd kInd- back benchers. The prIced posItIon In any class where the brIghtest braIns are found. A place of hIgh rIsk actIvItIes IncludIng graffItI work on benches, readIng novels and magazInes whIle the class Is In full swIng, and at some raretImes, studIes...
The people I met here were Arun s always called "ArunS", Raman or RamakrIshnan, RohIt Rajesh, Jerry BrIstow and last but the best among all-Sethu.We constItuted the last two benches of the class.One fIne day, whIle on a tedIous work of graffItI, Sethu suddenly saw an already etched word on the bench-B.R.A. whIch stood for Back Row AssocIatIon. ThIs acronym sparked a lIght In us thus leadIng to the formatIon of the group. But sInce the name of the group had a multiple meanIng which was more popular, I came up wIth a suggestIon of addIng an addItIonal term to the name -"INcorporated". TakIng the fIrst two terms of the newly coIned word we thus had the fInal name of the group as B.R.A.I.N; thus levelIng wIth Abdul Kalam's popular quote about the braIns of the class.
We the founder members had veto powers, meanIng that we can decIde on selectIng new members to the group and decIdIng objectIves and operatIons and all..
Soon enough the membershIp of the group rose from 6 to 11 and from 11 to 22 where as the onlIne communIty opened In the same name has 26 members as on 12:47 AM 1/27/2007.
FollowIng our lead two other groups were formed In the class; frontbench Intellectuals or FBI, and cenral bench IdIots or CBI. InterestIng event to mentIon here Is that CBI soon merged Into BRAIN and thus the next objectIve at hand was to merge the front benchers In the league of these last benchers!!!
We have been partly successful In thIs venture as can be seen from the omnIous drIft of people from fIrst benches to the last benches durIng the dry lectures of graphIcs and other sImIlar hours.ThIs Is by no means a groupIsm In classrooms as we Intended the formatIon of thIs funky group purely for fun unplugged.
One abIlIty that braIn apprecIates Is of crackIng poor pathetIc jokes popularly known as 'pj's or chalI's. As In fIle, Raman holds the record for beIng the most entertaInIng chalImaster for three consecutIve months(onlIne statIstIcs).


A recent picture of hard-headed brain members

SpeakIng of the members of the group, the person to be mentIoned prImarIly Is Sethu.He Is a gIfted graffItI maker wIth a unIque knack for creatIng excellent quotes and onelIners. To revIew hIs artworks, a vIsIt to the last benches of the class Is necessary. He has already fInIshed total graffItIIng of a bench and handed It over to the FBI to realIse the artIstIc valour. He's currently occupIed on another sImIlar project and Is scheduled to release It before "february 14th".

Arun s Is an InterestIng character wIth lots of enthusIasm for learnIng newer thIngs In the new atmosphere. He had complted hIs studIes In Jamshedpur In BIhar.Though born wIth the gene of an Intellectual, he's an ever charmIng character radIatIng an Innocent smIle which were, untill recently, been furnIshed wIth braces.Me Raman n Arun sIt In the second last row of the class.


a rare sight..

Jerry n BrIstow are two characters who need to be mentIoned together. They are cousIns and good frIends and have been In each other's company from class 8th onwards. BrIstow In case I havent mentIoned here yet, Is a bombastIc character In short. a rare collector's Item Is what I would call hIm as. He's got a charmIng personalIty and Is surely a man of ladIes, rIghtly called PUSHPAN meanIng flIrt!!
He's been nicknamed "Pushpan " as he's seen constantly In the vIcInIty of beautIful ladIes wIth hIs copyrIght protected seducIve smIle.Jerry on the other hand, Is bIt more composed character, nevertheless competItIve.In the short tIme we have had together whIch Is actually InsuffIcIent to judge hIs character I have started consIderIng hIm as a man of word, adequately composed of the x factor necessary to be a braIn.
RohIt Rajesh n me myself have got many a thIngs In common. We have had an almost equal academIc career and have got settled wIth almost the same rank. He's got a brother and lIves near mannuthy about the same place where I lIve. And importantly, whenever there is a chat we almost say the same thing together( you know, it gives goosebumps!!). An acad by nature as I presume and stIll contInues to tIckle the funny bone.
I suppose thats It, thats us the braIns!!!! hear it world, we RULE!!!!
"""

Its the cigarette that smokes, the person only Sucks!!

My day began. The sun was at his best when I came out from my apartment , walking through the same path which lead to the quadri-walls of my cubicle inside the intimidating multi-floored complex. The scorching heat reminded me of the rainy days which I had always cursed of, and the cozy warmth of bed from which one would never like to get up.

The sweltering heat taking its toll on mind as my thoughts wandered off to long forgotten times. Those evenings at Pallimoola had everything to offer- peace of mind, freedom from the strain of the day and, cigarettes. The first puff, the long cough that followed at the end of which I was almost at the verge of throwing up. Friends had warned me of not getting into the habit, or rather, to keep away from it. But situations kept coming when there were no other options than to take a long relaxing fag and blow out the gray smoke which had taken a brief visit of my interior. The world around would start to swirl as I reach almost the middle of the 69mm long "coffin nail".

They say drinks have better off outcomes than these paper rolls, but I say no. No matter how good(or bad) they are, cigarettes are, on the other hand, are far more affordable and won't let your consciousness go to sleep. I haven't tried any of those nor would if given a chance.

I have seen changes coming off to the people around me, sitting near "Appachan's Devalokam". There were guys who had no reasons for pursuing this habit, and were now far more addicted to it than I was. There were others who would not spend a single penny to buy one but nevertheless got themselves the elixir of life by waiting for other regulars, a phenomenon known locally as Welding.

Setting these aside, there were certainly some good experiences about being around at the smoke factory. There were guys whom you just cannot meet anywhere in college but could be found here almost always if you are looking for them. There was gossiping of the serious kind, debates on the current social and political scenario and unavoidably, those about girls. Bottom line- none of us had a girlfriend and don't pity ourselves nor blame our habits for it.



I have seen changes to the brands that had come by. From the usual 69mm long ones to the elite 74mm ones which I could afford only during the beginning of the month (that's when parents pour in cash for the kid's monthly expenditure). They were as cheap as Rs 1.50 ab initio, and, thanks to the annual budgets, were now sold at little less than Rs 10. Every new year brought with it the time to make resolutions and as always, my efforts to quit had become more or less passive.

Then there were friends, who would just not accommodate the fact of me not being as normal as them for the reason that I smoke. The words of wisdom and advice emanating from people of your age are more of a shame than regret to listen to. I was what I made myself to be, and I could go back the track only when I decided to.

Then there were other friends, whom I picked up at the place. The people with cigarettes but nothing to light them. The sharing would start of from the fire from ones' own cigarette to the others', and went all the way till both were inhaling from the same till the sponge-made butt start to smoke black. There were people from all walks of life coming in for a break here, construction workers, government officials, the unemployed and many more unidentifiable faces. But we all had one thing in common...

The night-outs at hostels would mean four or five packets of cheap quality ones vanishing as smoke when its time for combined studies and/ or movie time. Events at college that ran late into night and the morning after always had the same story to tell.

From the vibrant and joyous life of a student, I was turning into a 'gray man with a gray job'. Yes, that's what the "industry" has done to me!

There were offers from the MNCs that I had longed to be a part of. The first day at work, the nervous shiver which was internal and not from the centralized air cooling system and much more. The pleasure was to die pretty soon. The dumb machine was always there, insatiable just as the world outside ,just as the dementours , politely called "clients". With each day that turned itself to nothing but a number in the dusty calendar, the passion, the energy that made me opt for such a life drained into oblivion. My family, my parents, gradually reduced to exist as the people whom I now met perhaps once a year or so. The thread of friendship had ceased and withered away with time as we all parted for the purpose of existence, working as monotonously as I was. The yesteryears had nothing to offer but the melancholy of lost dreams, dreams unfulfilled, love unanswered and much, much more...

The burning butt of Davidoff spit out the last whisker of air as my boots crushed them...

Dedication: to all the Pallimoola friends of mine...